Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit) (35 page)

When Luke regained consciousness, he was sprawled on the living room floor. There was a killing pain in his cheek and jaw.

‘He’s awake,’ called Liam. Joe ambled into the room, swigging from a can. Luke’s heart pounded as he remembered the last time he’d seen him. But this time he had something they wanted. He carefully got himself up, half expecting to be knocked back to the floor. Liam moved towards him, but Joe checked his brother with a raised hand.

‘Go on then – hit me again,’ Luke said, trying to sound braver than he felt. ‘It won’t get you anywhere. Not if you want your money back.’

‘Might be worth it,’ said Joe. ‘You think we’re just goin’ to forget what you did?’

Despite his fear, Luke managed a laugh. ‘But I should forget what
you
did?’

‘So – you didn’t find what you wanted last night?’

‘I wasn’t here last night.’

‘Someone was,’ said Joe. ‘Forced the back door and closed all the curtains. Obviously wanted something in particular because nothin’ was taken. Seemed a bit weird. Then tonight, someone sittin’ at the bus stop, readin’ a paper when it’s nearly dark … well, that was suspicious.’

So they had seen him. Luke was annoyed with himself but shrugged as though he didn’t care. ‘You’re not as stupid as you look. Anyway, last night was nothin’ to do with me.’

‘I want that thirty grand.’

‘Can’t,’ shrugged Luke. ‘It’s gone. I burnt it after Mam’s funeral.’

Jesus, why did he say that? If they thought the money was gone, they might just dump him in the Shannon. It was good, though, to see Joe was shaken. His uncle knew the old Traveller tradition of burning a dead person’s possessions. Luke had had a taste of living life without having to worry about how to pay for stuff, and he liked it. He had no intention of giving the money back.

‘You’d better be lyin’,’ Joe said.

‘I’m not lyin’,’ Luke replied, which technically, he wasn’t.

‘Well in that case, you’d better find it elsewhere,’ said Joe. ‘Because if you don’t …’

‘You’ll do what?’ mocked Luke, determined not to show fear, although inside he was shaking with it. ‘If anythin’ happens to me, they’ll know it was you.’

He felt in his pocket for his mobile. Maybe he’d get the chance to call someone. It was gone, and then he saw Joe holding the phone. Must have taken it from his pocket after Liam knocked him senseless. Joe sat down, slid open the phone. ‘Well, you’re a popular boy. Look at all these texts.’ He read aloud.

‘Come back, bro. We can work it out.’

‘Luke, please phone me. Emer.’

Luke sighed. ‘So?’

‘This is the one I like best,’ said Joe, grinning.
‘Jack’s not my dad. I love you.’
That one from ‘Kate’ sounds a bit juicy. So little Lukey has a girlfriend …’

Luke hardly heard him. Kate wasn’t his sister! That must have been the message they left with Jessie. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

‘I take it you wouldn’t like anythin’ to happen to her.’

Joe’s words were a heart-stopper. Surely he was bluffing? Considering the thug he was, he’d never been in real trouble with the law. But could Luke take that risk with Kate’s safety? He decided to test the water. ‘Okay, I didn’t burn the money – though I nearly did – but you’ll have to give me some time. I haven’t got it all.’

‘Why not?’ Joe asked, quietly. ‘Been on a spendin’ spree?’

‘I paid for Jessie to have a hip replacement.’ He hadn’t, yet. But there was no way he was going back on his promise.

Joe nearly dropped his can. ‘You did what? What kind of idiot are you? She’s on her last legs as it is …’

Luke was defiant. ‘At least she’ll be able to use them, then.’

To his surprise, Joe started to laugh. ‘I’ve missed you, Luke. You belong here, you know that, don’t you? More than you do with the Stewarts. We’re all the family you’ve got.’

‘Jesus!’ Luke exclaimed. ‘You’re somethin’ else. You’ve
never
treated me like family.’

‘No,’ Joe conceded. ‘Not often. But there were good times too, weren’t there? I know I’ve got a temper after a jar or two.’

‘You weren’t drunk when you nearly killed me,’ accused Luke. He wasn’t stupid. Joe was just messing with his head again, playing the family angle to try and confuse him. Luke had always been hurt as much by Joe’s mood changes as by anything physical, and Joe knew that – Luke had made the mistake of telling him, believing he could reach his uncle’s heart. That was at a time when he thought Joe actually had one.

‘We can start again,’ suggested Joe. ‘You’re a Traveller, Luke. You’ll always be a Traveller.’

‘You’re right – I will – but you can fuck off!’ spat Luke. ‘You’re just sayin’ what you think I want to hear, but you’re a scumbag. It’s no wonder you’ll never see Roisin again.’

Afraid he’d gone too far, Luke instinctively pulled back, but the blow he expected didn’t happen.

‘Why d’you think your mam lied to you about Jack Stewart?’

So Mam
had
lied. Luke swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling more afraid than when he was goading his uncle to hit him.

‘Why did she never tell Jack she was pregnant?’ Joe asked. ‘I’ll tell you, shall I? It was because she didn’t want him to know the truth.’

Luke gave a sardonic laugh. ‘You wouldn’t know truth if it introduced itself.’

‘She was raped.’

Nothing his uncle had ever done compared to the pain Luke felt right then. ‘That’s a lie,’ he said, his voice little more than a whisper. But somehow, he knew it wasn’t.

‘You’re the son of a rapist, Lukey-boy,’ said Joe.

A loud hammering on the front door disturbed Luke’s thoughts. In a flash, Liam had him in a stranglehold, with one hand clasped tightly over his mouth. Joe went to the hallway, calling out ‘Who is it?’ and Luke’s heart leapt when he heard the reply.

‘Jack Stewart.’

‘Sod off,’ was Joe’s response.

‘I’m not leaving,’ shouted Jack.

‘Suit yourself,’ Joe replied. ‘I’ve been workin’ all day and I’m off to bed. Night, Jack.’

With that he put the lights out and returned to the living room, where he cautiously peered round the curtain.

Luke was struggling to free himself, but Liam was a strong man, and if he struggled too much, he was likely to be choked. Please God, don’t let Jack just walk away.

‘Shall we kick the door in?’ asked Matt.

Jack shook his head. ‘Only as a last resort. If Luke isn’t there, we could get ourselves arrested.’ He didn’t actually believe it would come to that as the Kiernans were unlikely to call the police, but he didn’t want anything to get in the way of their search. He wondered if the brothers had fixed the back door after he broke in yesterday.

‘Dad – put your ear here.’ Matt indicated first the letterbox, which he was holding open, and then his mobile phone.

Jack caught on instantly. The text had suggested Luke was here but couldn’t speak. It was possible he’d put the phone into silent mode, but they couldn’t risk calling him before. Now it didn’t matter. Within seconds, he could hear Luke’s phone ringing inside. He stood up. ‘
Now
we kick the door in!’

Both Matt and Jack assaulted the front door until it burst free of the lock. They were faced by Joe Kiernan, his face ugly, distorted with rage.

‘Get the fuck out of my house!’ he snarled, but Jack ducked the swing of his fist and pushed him aside as he and Matt went into the living room and turned the light on. Liam was still restraining Luke. ‘I’ll break his neck,’ he threatened.

Jack sat down on the sofa. ‘No, you won’t. Even you aren’t that stupid. Now, let him go. We’re going to all sit down and have a nice chat.’

Inwardly, Jack was raging. As he looked at Luke’s pale, bruised face, he could see first-hand the kind of brutality he’d been subjected to for half his life. All Jack wanted to do was punch Liam in the face, and then do the same to Joe. To make them pay for what they’d done to his wife and son.

‘I want some answers,’ said Jack. ‘And be grateful I’m not tearing you apart.’

Joe laughed. ‘You could try. So – ask away then, Jack.’

‘I know all about your sordid deal with my mother,’ said Jack. ‘I know she paid money to you that was intended for Annie and Luke.’

‘So it’s not your money!’ Luke exclaimed, now free from Liam’s grip. ‘It was mine and Mam’s all along.’

‘Well,’ said Joe, ‘that’s as good a cover story as any. But that money was paid to
me and Liam
, fair and square, and it wasn’t nearly enough to have to put up with this brat and his lunatic mother.’

Jack had to fight to stay calm. ‘Why did Annie leave me?’

Joe waggled his finger at Jack. ‘It was
you
who broke in, last night. You sad bastard – twenty years on and you’re still in the dark. Maybe you should be thankful – it’s better not to know some things.’

‘It was you who went through my stuff?’ Luke was staring at Jack, shocked. His son had always been more than a bit cagey about his home life. He probably saw this as another case of Jack sticking his nose where it wasn’t wanted.

‘Sorry,’ said Jack. It sounded lame and he waited for the usual angry rant.

Luke just gave a weak smile. ‘If I’d known, I’d have got you to get some of my stuff.’

Jack smiled back. He’d just cleared a major hurdle, but then Luke’s expression changed. He stared straight at Jack. ‘I know why Mam left.’

Jack’s stomach lurched. This was the first time they’d made proper eye contact since Jack had come to believe Luke was indeed his son. He looked different, maybe because Jack was seeing him with different eyes. His face, so like his mother’s, seemed open and honest, kind and gentle – everything she’d been.

‘She … she was raped,’ Luke whispered, and Jack felt as though he’d died inside.

‘Well, that’s what she said,’ said Joe. ‘But who knows? Maybe she just couldn’t live with the guilt of cheatin’ on ya, Jack. Of bein’ a slag.’

It had been an effort for Jack to keep his cool ever since he’d forced his way into the house, and this pushed him over the edge. He launched himself at Joe, who fell back into the television set, knocking it to the floor.

Taking advantage of Joe’s fall, Jack hauled him up and smashed a fist into his face, watching with satisfaction as Joe fell back to the ground, blood gushing from his nose. The man seemed stunned, and Jack allowed himself a quick glance around the room.

Liam was grappling with Matt and Luke, but Matt took a blow to the stomach and fell back onto the sofa, winded. Jack had no time to help because Joe was getting to his feet again. ‘Jack!’ shouted Luke. He turned to see Liam advancing on him, clutching a flick knife, but Luke sprang between them. Before Jack could react, Joe gripped his shoulders from behind and threw him backwards. As he fell against the corner of the table, he heard Joe shout ‘Liam, you fuckin’ idiot!’ before they both ran from the house.

Gritting his teeth from pain in his bruised side, Jack saw Luke just standing there. He appeared to be in shock. ‘Thanks,’ said Jack, smiling as he got up. Luke didn’t answer. Jack moved towards him, wanting to hug him for what he’d done, until he noticed the spreading red mass on Luke’s stomach. ‘Jesus, Luke!’

Luke’s face was ashen and his expression one of fear as he sank to the floor. It had all gone horribly wrong, and Jack was beside himself with guilt.

‘Matt, get some towels from somewhere,’ he instructed. He needed to try and stem the flow of blood. Moments later Matt returned with two hand towels. ‘Found the airing cupboard,’ he told Jack. ‘So at least they’re clean.’ Jack folded one of the towels into several thicknesses, and applied it firmly to the wound.

‘Is it 999 here, Dad?’ Matt asked, his mobile in his hand.

‘I don’t know,’ Jack replied, ‘But we’ll take him – I don’t think we can wait.’

Between them, Jack and Matt lifted Luke’s slight frame into the back seat of the hire car.

‘I need something to keep him warm,’ said Jack, and Matt ran back into the house, reappearing soon afterwards with a duvet. While Matt drove, Jack held Luke tightly in the duvet, still exerting as much pressure as he could on the source of the bleeding.

‘Sorry,’ came a whispered voice. At least Luke was still conscious.

‘What for?’ asked Jack, verging on tears. He strained his ears to listen to the weak response.

‘Bringin’ you nothin’ but trouble.’

Jack’s arms instinctively tightened around his son’s bleeding body, and he felt both shame and grief as Luke struggled to speak. ‘I want a DNA …’

‘You are
my
son!’ Jack told him fiercely. ‘Don’t imagine anything else.’ He squeezed his eyes shut as tears welled up inside. He opened them to see a faint hint of a smile on Luke’s face, but he seemed to be falling into unconsciousness.

‘Luke – stay with me,’ pleaded Jack. ‘Keep talking … about Kate, about Manchester United … anything.’

‘Cold …’ whispered Luke, who was shivering.

Blood was seeping through the duvet and Jack hugged Luke tightly, trying to warm him. Tears flowed freely as he kissed Luke’s dark head. All the parental feelings he’d been denying for weeks overwhelmed him now. This was his son. His and Annie’s longed-for child. He’d known him for a couple of months, and apart from Luke’s collapse at the funeral, this was the first time he’d held him. His thoughts flashed back to the hospital in Dublin, when Luke was recovering from serious injury, bereft and in shock. Any human being would deserve the comfort of a hug at such a time, but Jack had made no such gesture. Even if Luke had resisted, which he may well have done given his frame of mind at the time, Jack should have made the effort. And now he might never get the chance because Luke had put himself in the way of a knife meant for Jack. He’d let his son down badly. And his wife. ‘Forgive me, Annie – forgive me,’ he whispered.

‘He’ll be okay, Dad. He’s tougher than he looks.’

Jack nodded at Matt’s reassurance, but wishful thinking wasn’t going to pull Luke through the emergency surgery he was having at that moment. A little blood could go a long way, but it was obvious Luke had lost a lot of it. The pool on the floor of the car and Jack’s own sodden clothes were testament to that.

‘It was my fault,’ he said, as he and Matt waited in the Relatives’ Room. ‘I lost control. I let him down – and I let Annie down. I should have been looking out for him.’

There had been a few low points in Jack’s life but nothing compared to this. The guilt was overwhelming as he thought about Luke. Abused physically and emotionally, and seeing the same thing happen to his mother; believing his father had wanted him aborted; and finally, losing the one constant in his life in the most traumatic of circumstances.

It was no wonder his attitude had been hostile and vengeful. Jack had shown no understanding or compassion, no love or support, just impatience, irritation and anger. He rubbed his forehead, wearily. ‘I’ll never forget it, Matt. Holding him on the way here, wondering how much blood he could lose and survive. Wishing I’d treated him like a father should. Christ, Matt – he’d just lost his mother and I gave him
nothing
.’

He turned in nervous anticipation as the door opened, expecting to see a surgeon, but it was Kate and Emer who walked in.

‘We took a taxi as soon as you called,’ said Emer.

Kate was white-faced and tearful. ‘They said he’s still in surgery. It’s really serious, isn’t it?’

‘He’s in good hands, Kate,’ Jack told her. It sounded lame, for he was far too worried to be convincing. Kate turned towards him as though she was going to hug him but her expression changed to horror as she reached out and touched his bloodstained shirt.

‘Oh my God, Jack! Is that …?’ She swayed and Emer put an arm round her, guiding her to a chair. Kate sat down, head in hands. After a while she took her mobile from her bag, gazing at it through the tears. ‘I took this a few days ago.’

Jack held out his hand. ‘May I?’

It was a photo of Luke, happy and relaxed, smiling into the camera. A Luke Jack had never known. As always, he had the features of his mother, but he was a person in his own right. Why hadn’t Jack seen past the likeness to Annie? Why had he punished her son for what he’d believed were her sins? He returned the photo to Kate just as one of the medical staff came in and informed them Luke’s condition was critical and the following twenty-four hours would be crucial.

Eventually, Kate fell asleep on Matt’s shoulder, exhausted from tears and worry. Emer looked worn out, too, but Jack needed to speak to her and motioned her to follow him outside into the corridor, where he told her Luke’s revelation.

‘Raped?’ Emer looked shocked to the core.

Saying it aloud meant finally facing it, and Jack wanted to be sick. ‘Sorry. I need to be by myself for a bit,’ he said, as he walked away.

The hospital chapel was open but empty. Jack sat near the small altar, his head in his hands. Concern for Luke had suppressed all other emotions, but here, alone with his thoughts, he was able to focus on what he’d learned.

Annie had been raped.
The horror of that fact was now hitting him like an actual body blow, and he had to fight waves of nausea. His mind would take him so far – Annie distressed, fighting an attacker – but then it would cut off. He couldn’t bear to imagine her in pain, perhaps in fear for her life.

Why hadn’t she told him?
The question tormented him. Had she thought he would reject her? Was the shame too much for a devout Catholic? Or was it that Annie didn’t know who the father of her child was – Jack or the rapist? She’d been strongly against abortion so that would never have been an option, but the thought of carrying a rapist’s child would have been traumatic.

And so the possibility again presented itself that Luke was not his son. Despite their difficult history, this didn’t make Jack feel any kind of relief. He now had more positive feelings for Luke than at any time since he’d known about him. What had happened was neither Luke’s nor Annie’s fault. They had all, Jack included, been the victims of a crime. One of the worst crimes possible.

Jack’s mind was reeling with so many thoughts and possibilities as he stared at the row of flickering candles near a statue of the Virgin Mary. Annie’s face appeared in his mind – the beautiful girl of all those years ago, not the broken figure in the hospital morgue.

‘I’m sorry, Annie,’ he whispered. ‘For everything.’

He felt a rush of love for her, a love he’d thought had gone forever but which had been reignited when he’d sat on her bed. He hoped wherever she was now, she’d found peace. His torment would continue, but perhaps he deserved that for doubting her. He’d been weak for just accepting that non-existent detective’s report – shouldn’t have trusted his mother. Should have been man enough to make his own decisions. And he should have swallowed his pride and looked everywhere for her.

When he finally left the chapel, Emer was waiting outside and took his hand. He could feel the tightness in his face, caused by the stickiness of dried tears. Emer’s expression was one of compassion and sympathy. She understood. That was why he loved her. He squeezed her hand. ‘When Ollie was a puppy, his mother was hit by a car. She died on the roadside. Ollie just sat by her, whimpering. Lost. I picked him up and held him close to me for most of the day – to be there for him. I could feel his pain. His confusion. I offered him love and security.’

There was no need to explain the analogy to Emer. No need to reiterate that he’d failed Luke. That he’d never afforded him the same compassion he’d given his dog.

‘I need some air,’ he said, and together they went to the hospital’s main entrance. A heavy rain was falling so they stood by the doorway.

‘Annie loved the rain,’ he said. ‘She’d often run down to the lake to watch the drops falling into the water.’

‘She was a good person, Jack,’ Emer said. ‘And she loved you. I doubt she ever stopped. Even after …’

Even after the letter. Jack put an arm round her shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

‘How do you feel about Luke now?’ she asked.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well … you know there’s a chance he … may not be your son. A lot of men might—’

‘I’ve
always
thought there was that chance. The difference now is it wouldn’t have been any fault of Annie’s. In one way, it’s easier because I know now why she left, but part of me wishes I didn’t. How can I go back to Baronsmere and behave as if nothing’s happened? I’ll be looking at everybody with suspicion.’

‘I don’t suppose you have any idea who it was?’

‘I’ve been thinking, of course, but it was over twenty years ago. It’s hard for me to be objective. These are people I’ve lived with all my life. Of course, it could have been some stranger passing through …’

‘I don’t think Annie’s rapist was a stranger.’

‘Why not?’ Jack’s voice was sharper than he intended.

‘There’d be no reason for her not to tell you what had happened if it was a stranger – and the majority of rape victims know their attackers. That could have made things much more complicated for her …’

Jack was silent, his imagination in overdrive.

‘Jack, are you okay?’ Emer asked, putting her hand gently on his shoulder.

‘I can’t do this,’ he said. ‘I can’t rake through everyone I know, wondering if they raped my wife.’

‘Then let’s stop talking about it …’

‘I can’t!’ Jack cried. ‘You’ve put it in my head now and it won’t go away!’

‘I’m sorry …’

‘It’s too bloody late for that!’ He walked out into the rain and just stood for a moment, welcoming the freshness and the purity of the cool drops. Part of him wanted to continue walking, away from everything. From everyone. Finally, though, he returned to the doorway, dripping and miserable. He clutched Emer’s hand, and whispered, ‘I feel like I’m going crazy. I don’t know what to do.’

‘Let’s go and get a coffee and warm up a bit,’ she suggested. ‘Being cold and wet won’t help you.’

They walked to the near empty cafeteria, where they sat down, grateful for the presence of a coffee machine. For once, the coffee tasted like nectar.

‘Luke wants a DNA test,’ said Jack. ‘Even semi-conscious it was the first thing on his mind.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘I just keep going over and over that moment when I realised he’d been stabbed, like a bloody nightmare video on a loop.’ Jack felt wearier than he’d ever felt in his life, but another thought occurred to him. ‘When Matt and I were at Edenbridge, Richard called Annie a slut. Why would he do that? My mother gave him one of her looks and he clammed up. I always thought Richard detested Annie, but Tony Hayes said he once made a pass at her. It was Richard who took Annie’s letter. Maybe there was more to him not wanting her to come back to Baronsmere than I thought.’

‘Are you thinking
Richard
raped Annie?’

‘It makes sense,’ said Jack, increasingly convinced he was right. ‘And if my mother knew, she wouldn’t want it to come out, not if she was protecting Claire … Jesus Christ!’

‘What is it, Jack?’

‘The money my mother was paying, supposedly for Annie. Joe Kiernan said it was “a good cover story” …’

‘And?’

‘What if it was hush money? Because my parents knew what Richard did, and the Kiernans were blackmailing them.’

‘But Luke and Annie knew nothing about the money,’ Emer reminded him.

‘If Annie told her brothers, or her father, about the rape, Joe and Liam would have seen an opportunity to profit from it …’

‘Or they wanted revenge for what happened to their sister.’

Jack shook his head. ‘If they wanted justice for Annie, they’d have shared any money with her and Luke.’

Emer bit down on her thumbnail. ‘Well, it’s a theory. You know what you’re implying, though? If Richard is Luke’s father …’

It took a moment for the penny to drop, and it was sickening. Like bloody Groundhog Day. If Richard had raped Annie, and Luke was the result, Kate really was his half-sister. Jack sighed. ‘What a mess. Sarah doesn’t want Kate to know Richard is her father, but what the hell do we do if he does turn out to be Luke’s, too?’

‘I don’t know. Let’s just wait and see. As soon as Luke is conscious, we can sort out the DNA.’

Jack had wanted the test done right away. After all, it was Luke who requested it. ‘The hospital can’t just take your word for it,’ Emer had told him, and he’d had to reluctantly agree.

‘Shall we go back?’ Emer suggested. ‘Kate and Matt will be wondering where we are. And it might be a while before Luke is coherent, but he should wake up quite soon.’

‘The first hurdle,’ said Jack. ‘I know he’s not out of the woods yet.’

As Jack and Emer returned to the Intensive Care Unit, the nurse-in-charge called to him. ‘Mr Stewart, could you come into my office, please?’ Her expression was grim.

Five minutes later, Jack was at the hospital entrance again, feeling the rain stinging his face. It was hard to breathe, but he forced enough air into his lungs to give a howl of pain and anguish. His despair was complete.

When Jack marched into Stewart Enterprises the following morning, he was a man driven by love, anger … and hate. He headed first for Richard’s office but there was no sign of him. His father wasn’t at his desk so Jack grabbed Nicholas’s appointment book and scanned the day’s events. Then he hurried out and down the corridor, entering the boardroom without knocking.

Nicholas was seated at the head of the conference table, surrounded by the delegation from Redgate. He showed a moment’s surprise at Jack’s entrance. Then the usual cool control took over. ‘Jack, our discussions are rather finely balanced at the moment. Could we meet for lunch in an hour?’

‘No,’ said Jack. ‘I need to talk to you now. I suggest everyone take a coffee break.’

His father glared, but then backed down. ‘I ask for the indulgence of our friends from Redgate. A fifteen-minute break. Please avail yourself of refreshments.’ He stalked from the boardroom, Jack following in his wake.

‘Hold all calls!’ Nicholas snapped at his secretary. Closeted in the privacy of his office, Nicholas sat at his desk, whilst Jack paced the floor. ‘So what is this about, Jack? The Woodlands deal is on the verge of collapse because of all the adverse publicity. What is it that couldn’t wait until later?’

‘Where’s Richard?’ asked Jack. ‘The man who deliberately kept Luke’s existence from me. Who has ritually humiliated and degraded your daughter, both by his attitude towards her, and by cheating on her. I didn’t see him at the board meeting.’

‘I’ve made arrangements,’ Nicholas replied. ‘I realise it’s impossible for him to remain here with Claire … I’m sending him to Hong Kong.’

‘You’re rewarding him …’

‘He’s still my son-in-law. The father of my grandson. And we don’t want bad publicity.’

‘God forbid!’ Jack exclaimed. ‘Let’s not worry about the crimes as long as we can sweep it all under the Axminster, eh? Well that may be your way, Dad … but not mine. Since Luke arrived, I started to question things which I should have questioned much earlier – like twenty-one years ago. Why did my wife just up and leave? Why did she tell Luke I’d rejected them? Nothing made sense, so I started piecing together little snippets of evidence. I found out about the letter Richard forged to Annie. Then I found out why Annie left, and it wasn’t because of anything I did at all … my wife was raped.’

‘Jack, I really don’t …’ Nicholas began.

‘Shut up!’ snapped Jack. ‘Don’t open your mouth until I’ve finished or I won’t be responsible for my actions. So – I find out my wife was raped and, of course, my next question was, who by? Over the past few hours, I’ve been facing up to something I didn’t want to acknowledge. That it probably wasn’t some stranger but someone much closer to home.

‘I remembered what Tony Hayes said at the funeral. That Richard obviously fancied Annie. And it was Richard who was involved with the forged letter, with making payments to the Kiernans. Payments that Mother claimed were to help Annie and Luke. I never liked Richard, but I was shocked at what I was beginning to suspect. Although what shocked me even more was the realisation that if I was right, my parents – or my mother at least – knew what he’d done and helped him cover it up. That rather than incriminate Richard, they would allow me to stay in blissful ignorance, even to the point of not telling me I had a son. My fine, upstanding parents were allowing a rapist to share their home. Not just a rapist, but a man who had betrayed their daughter with at least one affair, maybe more.’