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Authors: Isabella Connor

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

Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit) (26 page)

BOOK: Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit)
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‘Yeah – right.’ Matt got up from the sofa and left the living room, slamming the door behind him. Now he’d sulk because Jack had put a question mark over the one thing he’d always wanted – a brother. A need that had made Matt blindly accept Luke as his own flesh and blood. And now Jack would be painted as the bad guy because he couldn’t put on the greatest acting performance since Olivier’s Hamlet and accept Luke without question. Asking for a DNA test was a hell of a risk to take. Being the only one willing to face the truth could make Jack a very lonely man. He’d postpone his decision till Monday. The weekend spent with Emer would calm him and help him see things with greater clarity.

Kate stepped out of the bathroom wearing pyjama shorts that emphasised her slim legs, and a thin top that left little to the imagination. This was the moment she’d been dreaming about since she’d met Luke. Lust at first sight had deepened into love, and she was sure he felt the same. Now they were alone in their own space, with no parents around to disapprove.

‘I’ve got something for you,’ she said. Luke was in bed, eyeing her with obvious appreciation.

‘So I see,’ he replied.

She giggled and threw a key to him.

‘What’s this?’

‘The key to Betsy’s heart,’ she teased. ‘Betsy is Tim’s old car – a nice little Corsa. He said you can use it whenever you want.’

‘You’re kiddin’!’

‘Absolutely not. And don’t you go getting all hung up on charity or whatever. Tim just wants you to feel a bit independent.’

‘Will I phone him now to thank him?’

Kate slipped between the sheets and took the key, placing it on the bedside table. ‘No, you won’t.’

For a moment, they just looked at each other. ‘Hello, handsome,’ she whispered, placing her hand against his cheek and leaning forward to kiss him. His response was soft, gentle, increasing in passion, and Kate pushed him back against the pillows as she kissed his neck and throat. She wasn’t his first but she was determined to be his last – and best. She moved slowly down his body, caressing his arms and shoulders, and planting light, teasing kisses on his chest. Luke’s breathing was becoming rapid. Her hand lingered on a circular scar on his shoulder. ‘Poor baby,’ she whispered. ‘How did you get that?’

Luke gently pulled her hands away from his body and whispered, ‘Let’s just cuddle tonight, okay?’

For a moment, she thought he was teasing, playing hard to get, but once she saw the anxiety in Luke’s eyes, she knew something was wrong. The atmosphere had changed abruptly from playfulness to an edgy tension. Everything had been fine until she touched the scar.

‘Okay.’ Kate settled in the crook of his arm. His heart was pounding. Something had really upset him. The scar looked like a burn, but he obviously didn’t want to talk about it. He’d been through so much. She’d have to be patient, not pressure him. She could do that, couldn’t she?

She placed her hand on his chest, a gesture of affection and protection. And reassurance. ‘I love you, Luke,’ she whispered. His eyes were closed.

Luke lay on the bed, praying for sleep that wouldn’t come. He was afraid to move too much in case he woke Kate. He was so embarrassed about what had happened. Kate seemed okay with it, but what if it happened again? Making love meant a commitment to emotions that were pretty new to him. Trust and self-belief, for a start. He couldn’t stop loving her, but he didn’t have to act on it. Didn’t have to open himself to more pain and loss. And it wouldn’t be fair on her either. She surely deserved someone better, who could offer her the kind of life she was used to. Which wasn’t the kind he’d had. He wanted to cry …

Luke stared at the football on the table and tried to sound pleased as he thanked his mother.

‘Keep practisin’,’ said Annie, ‘and you’ll be rich and famous one day.’

She was trying to make him feel better because she didn’t have the money to buy him what he wanted most. In his heart, he’d known he wouldn’t get the PlayStation, but he’d still hoped, especially after Danny McDonagh had got one. And he was only eight, not ten like Luke. It hadn’t even cost his parents any money at all, because Danny said they’d found it when it fell off the back of a lorry or something. How come Luke’s family never had that kind of luck, and what use was a football anyway? It’d just get lost or stolen or punctured. Suddenly, he was tired of always having to make do, of always going without, and he couldn’t stop the tears.

‘Luke!’ His mother did the worst thing then and hugged him tight as she wiped the tears with her thumb.

The slam of a hand on the table made Luke jump. ‘Jesus Christ, will you shut that kid up! How the fuck can I concentrate?’ Joe was filling out his betting slip for the horse racing. Nothing was ever more important than that. Not even Luke’s birthday.

‘Stop it, Joe,’ Annie said. ‘You’re scarin’ him.’

‘That’s the idea, you stupid cow.’ Joe slapped the back of Luke’s head – hard. That just made it worse. Luke was wailing for Ireland now and couldn’t stop.

Joe suddenly slapped Annie’s face, his handprint red on her cheek. He scowled at Luke. ‘Shut up, brat. Because that’s what happens if you don’t.’

Luke wanted to stop crying but couldn’t just switch it off. He watched, terrified, as Joe hit Annie again, this time unbalancing her so she fell to the ground. Luke threw himself at Joe, pounding his uncle in the stomach. ‘I hate you, you ugly gobshite!’

Joe pushed Luke against the wall, one hand at his throat. ‘For the last time, stop your whinin’. I’m warnin’ you now … shut your mouth before I shut it for you!’

Luke couldn’t breathe and his chest was hurting. He could see sparkles of light. The room was drifting away.

‘Let him go!’ Annie was screaming, and Joe threw Luke to the floor. It was several days before the bruises on his neck disappeared, but the memory stayed forever. Crying was off limits after that.

Finally, Luke slept, but the memories just turned into nightmares. He was running from Joe, but wherever he went, his uncle was there. Beating him. Punching him. He kicked his legs, trying to escape …

‘Luke! Wake up!’

He opened his eyes. Where was he? He scrambled upright, pain shooting through him from his ribs, which were still tender. He jerked away from a hand on his arm, expecting to see Joe. Then a light went on and he saw it was Kate, her face full of concern.

She touched his arm again, stroking gently. ‘It’s okay, you just had a bad dream. You’re safe.’

He didn’t deserve her concern. Not after the way he’d rejected her. ‘I’m sorry about … what happened, Kate. And I want to explain.’

Kate shook her head. ‘You don’t have to.’

‘I do,’ Luke insisted. ‘I need you to know about my life. Mine and Mam’s.’

‘Did … did they treat you badly all the time?’ Kate asked when Luke had told her about those dark moments of his life that he wanted to forget. Moments he’d never wanted to share but perhaps needed to. Maybe it would free him. ‘Did they give you that scar?’

Luke’s hand went to it. ‘Liam was angry about somethin’ I said so he stubbed out his cigarette on me. It turned into one of the best days of my life.’

‘What?’ asked Kate. ‘How come?’

‘Joe went ballistic at him. He wiped my tears, put a cold flannel on the burn and gave me five euro to spend when Mam next took me shoppin’. Then he took me out and bought me an ice cream. I said I wanted to buy him one with my money … I felt like I had a fortune … but he said I was to keep it for myself.

‘I loved him, you see, and I wanted him to love me. I guess I needed a real father figure. I went to bed feelin’ really happy, and in the mornin’ I couldn’t wait to see him. I ran up to him – and got a slap round the head because he was listenin’ to the radio. That’s how it was. I never knew what mood he’d be in. I’d have preferred it if he’d given me a slap every day rather than false hope.’

‘That was just cruel,’ agreed Kate. She seemed near to tears.

Luke hugged her to him, kissing her hair. ‘I did have a kind of relationship with my uncles, but mostly they resented me. And Mam, too.’

‘But why?’

‘She married outside the culture for starters, but they’d never treated her well. My grandmother died givin’ birth to her, so Joe blamed her. Then she had me, and I was another mouth to feed, the son of a Brit who wasn’t a Traveller, not even Catholic. Joe’s just full of hate. His wife left him years ago. Took their little girl, Roisin, with her. He’s never seen her since. And Liam – he used to be close to Mam until he got a head injury on a buildin’ site. Then he had all these mood changes, and that made life even more difficult for us. And apart from everything else, I wasn’t what they thought a good Traveller boy should be. They wanted me to do bare-knuckle fightin’, like they did. But I’m not exactly built to be a fighter! Even if I was, I wouldn’t want to do it.’

‘Why didn’t your mum take you away?’ asked Kate.

‘She’d tried to make it on her own once, which ended with me bein’ taken into care. Maybe she should have left me there. She could have made a life for herself, and I might have had a different childhood. A proper education.’

‘Without your mother?’

‘At the time I wouldn’t have wanted to be without her, whatever. But maybe we’d have been better off. She did what she thought was best but life was hard. She wouldn’t leave my grand-da. He was a good person, but he never got over my grandma dyin’. He was sick for years. Had two strokes. Sometimes I just wanted him to die so’s we could go. How bad is that? When he finally did pass on, we’d lost confidence we could make a go of it. We kept puttin’ it off until they beat me up bad, then I convinced Mam it was time.’

‘Finally,’ muttered Kate.

‘Don’t think badly of her, Kate. You don’t know what it’s like to be penniless. She did her best.’

‘I don’t know if I’ll ever get over her dyin’. Not when it was down to me. Mam always told me to stay calm or it would make things worse for both of us. I should have known fightin’ back was stupid, but I had to be the hero. I always felt bad for not protectin’ her enough, but when I did, it just got me battered. We’d never have been on that road, runnin’ away, if it wasn’t for me. That’s why I have this guilt that won’t go away. I’m sorry, Kate. For last night, and for burdenin’ you with all this.’

He hadn’t told her about the money. Matt’s warning that he’d involved them all in this mess echoed in his head. He hoped the less Kate knew, the safer she was.

‘Don’t be sorry. We’re a couple. We share the good and the bad. Maybe talking about it will help you deal with it. And I want to spend forever making it good for you.’

‘Is that a proposal?’

‘If you like,’ she laughed. ‘Because you’re stuck with me … you’re my soulmate.’

He kissed the top of her head and wound his arms tightly round her. ‘Kate Kiernan has a good Irish ring to it. When I get a proper job, I’ll make an honest woman out of you. I love you, Kate – and I don’t want to disappoint you.’

‘I love you, too,’ she whispered. ‘And you could never disappoint me.’

Her words were like some kind of miracle drug. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it, but suddenly life was smiling at him. Maybe he had a guardian angel – was his mother finally helping him in a way she’d never been able to before? He and Kate were now committed to each other, and as sure as the sun would set in the west, he knew he could trust her with his dreams, his emotions – his life. Like some kind of blessing, the growing morning sunlight bathed their bodies in gold as they slowly, tenderly made love.

Chapter Eighteen

Horses were everywhere in County Wicklow, grazing placidly on rich green farmland and being exercised by riders along various side roads. Now the way was blocked by a horse trailer lumbering leisurely along the road ahead, but Jack didn’t care about the delay. The slow pace of life in Ireland’s countryside was so relaxing. A pale sun warmed the landscape and the car radio played mellow folk music.

‘Do you ride, Jack?’ asked Emer.

‘I’m not that keen, but my father insisted I learn. He’s Master of the Baronsmere Hunt.’

‘Sounds important.’

‘It is – and he’s hoping when he retires, I’ll take over.’

‘You don’t sound happy about that.’

Jack sighed. ‘I’m the only son – it’s expected of me.’

‘Well, put your foot down,’ suggested Emer. ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

She had no idea. A constant stream of cutting comments from his mother and a brooding silence from his father whenever he stepped out of line. ‘I work with my father, Emer. Any tension in our personal lives can spill over and that’s not good for business.’

How lame that sounded. Emer must think him weak. Maybe he was. He’d left home earlier than necessary to avoid Matt, and he’d hinted to Emer during lunch that he needed a break from the subject of Luke, hoping she’d steer clear of it and he wouldn’t have to tell her the kid had left. Was that weakness – or just a desire to enjoy the weekend? ‘Remind me again,’ he said, ‘who’s being christened tomorrow?’

‘Gabriel. Firstborn of my cousin, Cal. Cal’s the Assistant Manager at the hotel where we’re staying, so the room should be grand.’

‘And the name of the place is Glenfiddich?’ he joked.

Emer laughed. ‘You wish! We’re staying in Glen
dalough
. It means Valley of the Two Lakes. A really ancient site. Dates back to the sixth century.’

That didn’t sound like much fun. Ruins weren’t Jack’s thing. Still, he was with Emer, which was all that mattered.

A sudden shower had just cleared when Jack caught his first glimpse of Glendalough. As they drove downhill into the wooded valley, the water on the leaves of the trees sparkled in the returning sunshine. The scene took Jack’s breath away. An ancient round tower in the centre of the village pierced the vision of lakes and mountains in the distance. Houses and churches and ruins were scattered over the rich green landscape. ‘It’s like finding Brigadoon,’ said Jack, in wonder.

‘I know,’ Emer agreed. ‘It’s an amazing place. People come from all over to visit.’

The road veered sharply to the left and soon they were in the courtyard of a large, elegant Georgian country house.

‘Welcome to the Fintan House Hotel,’ said Emer. ‘D’you like it?’

Mansions held little charm for Jack. Too much like Edenbridge. Emer, though, was clearly delighted with the place. Not wanting to spoil her day, he said, ‘It’s wonderful.’

A moment later, a grizzled porter in purple uniform came to take their luggage. Jack couldn’t wait to be alone with Emer. Her use of the singular
room
earlier had been music to his ears. Despite the fact they’d consummated their relationship after his birthday bash, he didn’t like to take anything for granted, preferring her to take the lead – he could presume, now, that she hadn’t been disappointed. During the journey, her laughter, her voice and her subtle scent had increasingly cast a spell on him, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and make love to her again.

‘We can have dinner on the terrace,’ said Emer, as they booked in. ‘It’s cool, but they have heaters out there, and it’s worth it for the view of the lake.’

‘We got a grand batch of oysters fresh this morning,’ the receptionist commented with a knowing smile. Hopefully by checkout time tomorrow, that knowing smile would be justified – Jack’s relationship with Emer would be established and they would officially become a couple.

The room was amazing, especially the huge canopied bed, draped with heavy jacquard curtains, and Jack’s imagination fast-forwarded to the many possibilities such a bed could offer. While Emer was in the shower, Jack stood at the picture window, looking at the view. The hotel’s gardens sloped right down to the lake. A breeze ruffled the water, now speckled with gold, and a boat was heading to harbour at the other side. He opened the window and the sweet scent of lilies drifted into the room. Baronsmere was picturesque, but this was like something from a fairytale.

The bathroom door opened behind him, and he turned round. Emer emerged, making the towel wrapped around her look like something from Versace. At that moment, strains of classical music floated up from the terrace. Jack gently pulled Emer towards him, positioning one hand on her waist and clasping her palm with the other. Her free hand went up to his shoulder and they drifted around the room in a slow, sensual waltz.

Emer was looking into his eyes and smiling, and Jack couldn’t resist leaning down and kissing her soft, willing mouth. Their tongues entwined, and she caressed his neck.

‘We could always skip dinner,’ breathed Jack. ‘I don’t need the oysters.’

He waltzed her to the bed and gently laid her down in the middle of it. Her auburn locks spread in glorious disarray on the pillows, and a light tug easily undid the knot in the towel. Emer placed her hands on his face and gently pulled him towards her. ‘We’ll call room service later,’ she breathed, and Jack soon forgot about anything other than this woman and this moment.

Jack tried to persuade himself to get out of bed. Emer was dozing peacefully in his arms. They’d made love again a short time ago, leisurely, still drowsy from sleep. Jack wished he could stop time and defer his return to Baronsmere and all the problems there. An impossible wish, but at least he could enjoy this day to the fullest, and make sure Emer did, too. At the end of the weekend, he wanted her to think of him as fun, caring, romantic, sensitive. And to decide she needed him in her life permanently.

He gently kissed her awake, stroking curls away from her forehead. ‘Time to get up,’ he said, rolling over and getting out of bed.

She looked at the clock, confused. ‘What? It’s still early. Come back to bed.’

‘I’ve planned a surprise for you,’ he said with a smile.

‘What kind of surprise?’

‘Not telling. But make sure you dress warmly.’

A faint light in the sky heralded the coming dawn. Nearby, Emer could hear water, see the ghostly glimmer of it running down the nearby cliff. This was Jack’s surprise. A private breakfast by Powerscourt Waterfall. An expensive breakfast because the place didn’t open to the public until after ten. He’d arranged it all without her knowing – gone to a lot of trouble and expense just for her. She hugged that knowledge close as she watched him open the bag the hotel receptionist had given him.

There were smoked salmon sandwiches, some boiled eggs, Danish pastries and two bright red apples. Even better, there was a Thermos flask of hot coffee. Jack sat next to Emer and draped a blanket round their shoulders. Then they waited.

When the first gleams of sunlight hit their spot, Emer grabbed Jack’s hand as they sat together watching nature’s daily miracle. Neither of them spoke; neither of them needed to. She would remember this forever.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured, when the sun had finally cleared the horizon.

He kissed her hand. ‘My pleasure, Emer. You’ve made me very happy, you know. Yesterday was wonderful – all of it.’

‘Yes, it was,’ she agreed, snuggling close.

He gently kissed the side of her head, and she heard him whisper, ‘I need to have you with me, Emer. I think I’ll need to have you with me always.’

Emer’s pulse raced. She was falling for this man in a big way, but she was still anxious. Was her heart ready for one more great love? Losing Michael had been devastating, and Colm’s betrayal still hurt. She’d not make a promise she couldn’t keep, but she’d have to give Jack some kind of an answer. ‘My grandmother had a saying –
What’s for you will not pass by you.
If we’re meant to be together, Jack, then we will be.’

He took her hand and pressed it to his mouth. They lingered on in that magical place, lulled by the music of the waterfall and the sun’s gentle rays.

‘Is this all yours?’ asked Jack, staring at the elegant façade of the four-storey Edwardian building in the Dublin suburb where Emer lived.

‘God, no! I’ve got the ground floor flat. It’s all I need.’

Jack followed her up the steps and into the spacious hallway. The late afternoon sun was shining through the stained glass above the door, casting squares of coloured light on the polished parquet floor. A vase of lilies on a small table filled the entrance area with a heady scent.

Emer unlocked the door on the right. ‘You’ll have to excuse the mess,’ she apologised, showing him into the living room. ‘I usually attempt a clean up at weekends. Sit yourself down and I’ll make us some tea.’

She headed for the kitchen, leaving Jack free to explore the spacious room. The walls were a soft buttery yellow and two large paintings commanded attention: a wild seascape, and an unusual canvas of a smiling young man casting his arms wide as if to gather the whole world to him. A bookcase near the window was filled with a mix of psychology textbooks, classics and popular novels. Framed photographs of freckled, red-haired children crowded the top of the bookshelf: Emer’s nieces, nephews, and godchildren, some of whom he’d met earlier at the christening. He’d liked Emer’s relatives. They’d easily accepted Jack and Emer as a couple and given him a warm welcome.

Jack sat down on a comfortable blue sofa and gazed through the tall windows at the massing clouds. He let his mind drift, hearing the clanking of china in the kitchen and voices followed by beeps – Emer checking her answering machine. A sudden tiredness washed over him. The early morning start was catching up with him. He dozed off.

Jack woke with a start, not sure where he was at first, stretched out on a sofa, still in his clothes. A table lamp gave out a soft light to combat the dusk. He sat up and saw Emer, resting in an armchair, watching him.

He smiled but she didn’t speak. She looked grim.

‘Sorry I drifted off … I didn’t mean to be rude …’

‘There was a message on my answering machine from Matt. You’d left my phone numbers with Maggie in case of emergency. Your mobile’s been switched off the whole time.’

‘Matt? What did the message say?’

‘I phoned him back in case it was urgent. He asked me to tell you he’s left home. He’s staying at Tony’s pub for now.’

‘What!’ Jack’s mind was racing. He was an idiot. Sneaking out of the house early so he wouldn’t have to face Matt after their argument. Now it had all gone belly up.

‘Why didn’t you tell me Luke had left home as well? Matt said he left because Luke did, and you didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry to persuade him to come back.’ Emer’s voice was cool, her expression disapproving.

‘Now wait a minute!’ This was injustice on a grand scale. He was being blamed for something he hadn’t done. ‘That’s not true. I
was
going to speak to Luke.’

‘When?’

‘Tomorrow. I thought I’d give him time to calm down first.’

‘You must see how it looks, Jack. You come to spend the weekend with me while your sons are in crisis. And you leave your mobile switched off so no one can contact you.’

Jack stood up, paced in front of the windows. ‘A crisis that Luke caused. He’s supporting a protest against Stewart Enterprises. My father was furious. He saw it as a betrayal. That Luke was doing it for revenge.’

‘And you believe that, too?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe. My father thinks so.’

‘Never mind your father. What do
you
think? Be your own man, Jack. At least Luke has the courage of his convictions.’

‘So you’re siding with him?’

Emer threw up her hands in frustration. ‘Your
parents
are the ones wanting you to take sides, and that’s not good. Can’t you see that?’

‘All I see is you’re blaming me, and that’s not fair.’

‘You know what really bothers me about all this, Jack? That you never told me any of it.’

‘But why spoil our weekend? What would it have achieved? Anyway, I was—’

‘—going to tell me?’ Emer finished his sentence. ‘Like you were going to speak to Luke? Everything has to happen to your timetable.’ She shook her head, and his heart sank. ‘I thought we got so close this weekend – now I find you’re keeping things from me. That’s not what a relationship should be about.’

‘I’m sorry …’

‘Me too.’

Her words had a ring of finality, which startled Jack. ‘Emer, I understand what you’re saying – really I do, and I can see why you’re angry. But right now, it’s because of you – even just the thought of you – that I’m keeping everything together. Please – please – don’t pull away from me. Not now.’

Emer’s expression softened, but her look was pitying, not loving. ‘Jack, you need to sort out your life. And you need to think what kind of relationship you want. I want a partner who shares things with me, who doesn’t keep me in the dark. Right now, I can’t trust you, and that’s not something I can build on.’

Jack wasn’t angry now. Just sorry. He’d had something good within his grasp, and he’d screwed it up. He’d lost Matt and now Emer. Luke had never really been his to lose. ‘Do you want me to leave now? I could try to get a flight …’

‘Of course not. You can sleep on the sofa. I can order some food …’

‘I’m not hungry,’ said Jack.

‘Me neither,’ said Emer sadly.

They looked at each other like two survivors on separate life rafts, drifting slowly and inexorably away from each other.

Jack’s car inched through Manchester’s morning traffic. His flight from Dublin had been delayed, so he’d be late to work, but right now that seemed the least of his worries. All he could think about was Emer. How could they have got so close then ended up poles apart?

Rounding a corner, Jack saw a large crowd of people blocking the pavement in front of Stewart Enterprises. He scanned the placards, which read ‘Hands Off Woodlands’ and ‘Stewart Enterprises: Bullies ‘R’ Us’. Shit! This was all Richard’s fault.

BOOK: Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit)
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