Fragile Lies (35 page)
Authors: Laura Elliot
H
is funeral was well attended
. A sombre occasion as befitting a man who went before his time. Lorraine stood by his grave, her arm around Emily’s shoulders, their backs ramrod straight. The grieving widow. People gave her the respect this deserved, uttered the obligatory words of sympathy, carefully disguising their curiosity. Ralph stood beside her. Once, when the priest mentioned Adrian’s name, he clasped her hand. His touch was cold, his eyes red-rimmed. No one mentioned Virginia’s name. Her absence added to the power of her invisible presence.
She heard traffic passing outside the cemetery wall. The air was heavy with the scent of pine. They stood on a carpet of dead needles. It is over, she thought as she walked from his grave, shocked anew by the finality of death. All his energy and vitality, the space he once occupied in the world, all gone, quenched, folded over.
Michael Carmody came to the funeral. He made no effort to utter trite words of solace. They stood together for a moment, not moving, not speaking. When she stirred, aware of Emily’s bleak gaze, he said, “I met Ralph Blaide yesterday. I’m aware of everything that happened on the pier.”
“I can’t talk about it yet, Michael.”
“I told you once I’d wait for you forever. Nothing will change my mind.”
“How is Killian?”
“Strong. He’s responding to physiotherapy. But he’s a long way to go yet. Thank you for the painting.”
She nodded, rejoined Emily. Time was at a standstill. It would move forward again but for now she could only live in the moment.
S
ix months
later
T
he Donaldson brothers
dropped in on their spare time to finish small jobs. She started work on the garden. After the overgrowth had been removed she had a clear perception of the space she had to manage. Sometimes, Emily worked beside her. Her friends called regularly, cycling down the lane, their noise and exuberant good humour drawing her out of her silence, returning colour to her cheeks, light to her eyes.
Old Celia used to have lilies in her front garden, tall and stately as church candles, and so it was lilies that preoccupied Lorraine one evening when she heard Hobbs barking. She would plant the lilies in the turned earth near the front of the house and fill the air with their scent. A car braked outside the gate and she knew, without turning, that he had arrived. Emily came to the front door and stood waiting. Hobbs’ barking abruptly stopped when Noeleen’s commanding voice rang out and, for an instant, when the engine switched off, the only sound to break the silence was the faint pulse of the sea.
Michael Carmody helped his son from the passenger seat. The young man’s legs looked too slender to support his weight. His face twisted from the effort of standing upright but he was able to place one foot before the other, and, leaning heavily on his father’s arm, step forward to greet Lorraine. The sun hovered above the headland, as if drifting on smoke, before disappearing into a dark rim beyond the brow.
R
ain would fall before dawn
. She could taste it, smell it, feel it on her skin, hear it falling softly from clouds scudding dark across the sky. So much to do, a desk diary filled with appointments, breakfast meetings, receptions to organise, phone calls to return. Virginia pulled open the balcony doors and stepped outside. Across the bay, a mosaic of flickering lights crowned the skyline, spiralled upwards towards the summit of Howth Head. The balcony rail was cold against her hand. A door slammed in a neighbouring apartment and, in the courtyard below, she saw him dance. He moved forward into fluorescent pools, spun and fell and rose again to bow before her. She pressed her hands against the rail and allowed the fear to consume her, acknowledging its source, knowing it would take time to pass. And it would pass. It always did. Everything passed. The courtyard lamps continued to burn between the high anonymous spires. A string of jewels surrounding the secrets of the night.
T
hank
you so much for deciding to read
Fragile Lies
. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed creating the imaginary lives of Lorraine and Michael, and the people closest too them.
W
riting can be
a solitary occupation and connecting with my readers when the story is told is both enjoyable and important to me. If you did enjoy
Fragile Lies
and have an opinion on the story it would be wonderful to read it in a review, no matter how short. I love reading reviews and always appreciate the fact that people take the time to write them. They also help other readers discover my books for the first time.
A
lso
, if you’d like to
keep up-to-date with all my latest releases
, just sign up here:
Thank you so much for your support – until next time.
Laura Elliot
I
f you loved
DAUGHTER by Jane Shemilt you will love this.
I
t's
every mother's worst nightmare. Carla Kelly wakes to find her two-day-old baby daughter's cot empty. Isobel has been taken.
S
usanne Dowling has kept
a terrible secret following her fifth agonising miscarriage. When at last she welcomes her new baby daughter into her life she realises they will both be safe as long as Susanne keeps her daughter close, and confesses her lie to no one. Ever.
Carla, a top model, launches a fierce national campaign to find her baby – but the trail is cold. She receives threats and recriminations from strangers – she flaunted her pregnancy in the media, she cashed in on it, she deserves everything she gets – and, pressured by well-meaning loved ones to move on, she begins to fall apart.
But one letter Carla receives stands out from the rest, offering support from a surprising quarter. It sparks a chain of events that opens wounds and exposes shocking secrets from Carla’s past that suggest what happened to her daughter was revenge a long time planned .
And it will bring Carla unknowingly close to the stolen daughter she has sworn she will do anything to get back …
‘
A
bittersweet tale
of love and heartache.
’
Evening Echo
‘
A
n entertaining
and highly thought-provoking tearjerker.
’
Closer
magazine
'
A
page-turner
…has all the ingredients of a bestseller.'
RTE
W
hen 15-year
-old Cathy Lambert runs away from her Dublin home, she is scared and pregnant. Settled in New Zealand with her new son Conor she believes the secret she carries will never be revealed…
R
ebecca Lambert was
eighteen when her parents died and she took responsibility for her younger sisters. Years later, she is haunted by fears she hoped she'd conquered.
F
reed from family duties
, mother of three Julie Chambers is determined to recapture the dreams of her youth.
M
arried to a possessive older man
, Lauren Moran embarks on a frantic love affair that threatens to destabilise her fragile world.
A
nxious to make
peace with her three sisters, Cathy invites them to her wedding.
B
ut as the
women journey together through New Zealand towards their reunion, they are forced to confront the past as the secret shared histories of the Lambert sisters are revealed.
‘
A
gripping
, multi-stranded novel… An unusual combination of
fine writing, strong plotting and a huge cast of well-formed characters.
’
Irish Examiner
'
A
well-crafted
and compelling story
traces the deceits which begin unnoticed but end in the destruction of friendships and lives.'
Irish Times
M
any people assist the author
, often unknowingly, in the writing and production of a book. They can range from those who willingly provide any background information necessary for the development of the story, those who offer encouraging words at crucial times or simply provide a much-needed cup of tea when too many hours have been spent at the computer. To all of you, my friends, I thank you for your contribution to
Fragile Lies
.
T
hank
you to my editorial team at Bookouture, especially to my editor, Claire Bord for her support, enthusiasm and professionalism. Working with her has been a privilege and a pleasure.
T
hanks
, also, to my agent, Faith O’Grady from the Lisa Richards Agency for her commitment to my writing career.
T
o my beloved
family – my husband Sean, my son Tony, daughters Ciara and Michelle, son-in-law Roddy, daughter-in-law Louise – and my two wonderful grandchildren Romy and Ava – thank you all for your unfailing love, encouragement and support.
L
aura Elliot is also
the author of
The Prodigal Sister
and
Stolen Child,
published by Avon - HarperCollins. Under her own name, June Considine, she has written twelve book for children and young adults. These include the
fantasy Zentyre trilogy and the popular Beachwood series of books for pre-teens Her young adult novels include
View from a Blind Bridge (short-listed for a Bisto Award) and The Glass Triangle
.
Her short stories have been broadcast on
RTE’s Fiction 15
series and have appeared in a number of teenage anthologies, including
The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror Annual Collection
. She gives regular workshops on creative writing and is secretary of the board of the Irish Writers’ Centre. She has also worked as a freelance journalist and magazine editor.
