Hot Property (Irish romantic comedy) (12 page)

“I saw him at the pub with an older man last night.”

Megan looked up. “Oh? That must be his dad.”

“Yes. They look alike. The dad is handicapped or something. Walked in using a cane. They seemed to get on really well.”

Megan stared at Beata. “Handicapped? I didn’t know. Dan doesn’t talk about him much. In fact, he seems to avoid the subject when I mention it. But… but doesn’t his father run an estate agency?”

Beata closed the washing machine. “So? Can’t he do that even if he can’t walk? Can’t be that much to do these days. Not many houses for sale. Must be hard to live on what he makes. Especially if he’s handicapped.”

 
“Must be,” Megan mumbled and went back to the bookings on the screen. But she couldn’t focus on them for a long time.

~ ~ ~

“Do you want to come to the races on Sunday?” Paudie asked when he dropped in with a sweater Megan had left behind.

“The races?”

“Yes, you know, where a bunch of horses run against each other and we place bets and cheer and drink beer and have a good time. The races.”

Megan snatched the sweater from him. “I know what the bloody races are. I was just a little surprised that you’d go there.”

Paudie leaned on the gate. “Why? I do go out for a bit of fun sometimes, you know. In any case, Diana has a horse in one of the races, so I thought we’d go and cheer her on. And this is the biggest event of the year here. Because of the Rose of Tralee festival. Very glamorous.”

“The Rose of Tralee? Gosh, I had totally forgotten that was on.”

Paudie shook his head mockingly. “You really are on another planet these days. Tralee is buzzing right now. Not that I’m interested in that sort of thing, but it’s kind of fun all the same.”

“But it’s just a beauty pageant, isn’t it?”

“In a way, yes. But I think it’s much more than that. All these Irish girls from all over the world coming back to their roots. They’re not just judged on their looks but on their personality and talent as well. Most of them are so wholesome and sweet. Yeah, okay, it’s kind of cheesy. But it’s so very Irish.”

Megan laughed. “That’s for sure. So, you’ve been watching? Who’s your favourite to win?”

“The girl from Texas. She has a certain sassiness combined with Irish-girl-next-door sweetness.” He winked. “Just like you.”

Megan felt her face go pink. “Didn’t know the girl-next-door was your type.”

“I don’t have a type. So, how about it? You want to go? Or do you have plans with Mr Nolan?”

“No, not this Sunday. He’s in a surfing competition. So, yes, I’d love to. Sounds like fun. What’ll I wear?”

Paudie laughed “The first question a woman ever asks, even if it’s her own funeral. How about my old corduroys with the binder twine? You looked cute in those.” He ruffled her hair. “I’ll pick you up at one. See you then, kiddo.”

Chapter 12

Tralee racecourse was packed. When Megan saw the crowds, the multi-coloured tents, the banners and flags, she realised what a special day it was. The newly crowned Rose of Tralee would be attending, and there would be a parade with all the contestants in vintage cars. The biggest race was Owen McCarthy Claims Specialists Handicap Steeplechase over two and a half miles, and everyone expected a great contest between the best thoroughbreds in the country.

“What a perfect day for the races,” Megan said to Paudie as they went through the turnstile.

Paudie squinted at the sun. “It’s a grand day. End of August is normally good, though. And so many of the farmers here have finished saving hay and all the crops. This year, they got two cuts of silage as well. So you’ll see a lot of money changing hands.” He glanced down at her. “You look nice.”

Megan laughed. “Typical. I’ve made a huge effort to dress just right for the races and dug out my very expensive Prada dress, a remnant of my former life. I even went to the trouble of ironing it. And all you can say is ‘nice’.”

“Oh. Okay.” He looked at her again. “Your dress—excuse me,
Prada
dress—with that exquisite pattern of blue flowers, the sexy short skirt, teamed with—” he looked at her feet, “blue sandals with sky-high heels and a matching—no, wait, not matching—enormous handbag is the epitome of the well-dressed Kerrywoman at the races.” He drew breath. “Better?”

“It would be if you meant it.”

“I do. With bells and whistles.”

“Yeah, right,” Megan laughed.

“But what the hell is a Prada dress?”

 
“Prada is a very well-known designer.”

“I see. You
coulda
fooled me. I thought it was some kind of weird material.” He looked at her hand. “I see you’re wearing the ring. But isn’t it the wrong way around?”

“No, it isn’t. I don’t feel attached yet. In fact, I don’t like that word.”

“Or in love?” he asked airily.

She thought for a moment. Was she in love with Dan? He made her feel happy and she liked him a lot. She was very attracted to him but love might have been too big a word. “Well, let’s call it ‘in like’ for now,” she replied. “Very much so, actually.”

“Sounds complicated.”

She shook her head and laughed. “Ah, forget it. I’m here to have fun. I’m going to have a little flutter as well.”

Paudie laughed. “Easy with the
moolah
, girl. Horses are a dangerous drug.”

Megan put her entrance ticket into her handbag. “Do you never bet?”

“I might put a tenner or so on a good horse, but that’s about it. I’m going to put a little bit on Diana’s horse.”

“Does she train horses as well?”

 
“No. This isn’t a horse she owns, it’s one she bred and sold on. It’s owned by a syndicate, I think. But she’s always very attached to the horses she’s bred.”

They made their way through the crowd. Paudie held Megan’s elbow in a tight grip as they walked towards the stands. He was greeted now and then by claps on his back and shouts of ‘Howerya, Paudie’, but they didn’t stop to talk. “We’d better make sure we get seats, or we’ll have to stand, and then you won’t see a thing,” he said.

They passed bookies setting up their places. “Shouldn’t we place our bets now?” Megan asked.

“Yes, we will. But I have my favourite. These guys don’t offer the best odds. My friend, Bobby, is my man."

They stopped in front of a board that showed the horses running in the next race. A tiny man in a checked jacket and deerstalker hat was shouting into the crowd and making odd gestures. Paudie touched his shoulder. “Hello, Bobby, how are things?”

He turned around. “Paudie, my friend! And with a lovely lady as usual. He grabbed Megan’s hand and kissed it. “An honour to meet you, my dear.”

Megan giggled. “Hello. What a lovely day.”

“All the lovelier now that I’ve met you, my fair lady.” He winked at Paudie. “This is a grand girl. Hold on to her.”

Paudie laughed. “Enough of your blather, Bobby, or she’ll get a swelled head.” He pulled two twenty-euro bills out of the pocket of his shirt. “Forty on the nose of Bare Necessities.”

Bobby clutched his heart “Forty? My God, Paudie, you’re going mad today. That’s a complete outsider.”

“I know,” Paudie said. “But a friend of mine bred it. I’m only betting on it to bring it luck.”

“You could do that for a little less, but okay, you’re the boss.” He took the money and handed Paudie a ticket. He beamed at Megan. “And what about you, me
darlin
’? A tenner on a sure winner?”

Megan opened her bag and took out her wallet. “No. I’ll put two hundred on Bare Necessities.”

There was stunned silence. Bobby shook his head. “On such an outsider? Well, the odds are great, so if he wins, you’ll get four thousand. But the favourite’s so strong. Your choice is a risky business, sweetheart.”

Paudie shuffled his feet. “Megs, are you sure? I mean, it’s a good horse but that amount of money…”

Megan nodded and proffered the bills to Bobby. “Yes. I’m sure. I know you think I’m mad, but I have this feeling.”

Bobby sighed and took the notes. “There’s no arguing with a woman when she has a ‘feeling’.”

Megan took the ticket he handed her. “That’s right.”

Paudie touched Bobby’s shoulder. “Don’t look, but there’s Garret Nolan coming your way,” he muttered.

“Oh shit,” Bobby said. “Not him. I know I should be delighted, but when a gambling addict comes to you only to get his throat cut again, then my job becomes such a pain.”

Paudie nodded. “Yes, but what can you do? If he doesn’t go to you, he’ll go somewhere else.”

Megan stole a look at the older man walking towards them. Leaning slightly on a walking stick, he was tall and good-looking, with a shock of white hair and broad shoulders. Dressed in a tweed jacket and matching hat, there was a dapper, jaunty air about him, like someone enjoying a day out. But there was also something familiar about him. With a sudden shock of recognition, she realised who he was. “Dan’s dad,” she mumbled. “They’re so alike.”

“That’s right.” Paudie pulled her away. “Not a man I want to speak to right now. Or ever.”

“But,” Megan protested as they rushed through the crowd. “Why don’t you want to speak to him?”

Paudie climbed the steps to the top of the stands. “Look, I see seats up there. Perfect. We’ll get a good view of the whole thing.”

Megan was quite out of breath when they reached the seats. She had to wait for a moment until she could speak again. “Come on, Paudie, tell me,” she said, when they were sitting down. “What is it between you and the
Nolans
?”

Paudie adjusted his linen blazer and pulled at his shirt collar. “Oh, that’s just some family stuff.”

“Yes. So?”

He turned to look at Megan. “That family has always behaved as if they were royalty. And if you must know, my mother was engaged to Garret in their youth. He jilted her at the altar. This turned out to be lucky for her because she then met my dad who was a much better man. She had a happier life as a result.”

“And she had you.”

Paudie nodded. “Yes. And my brother.”

Megan stared at Paudie. “Your brother? You never told me you had a—”

Paudie looked into the distance. “It’s a long story. But okay, I’ll tell you.” He turned to her. “My younger brother, Michael, and Dan were in the same class at school. When they were teenagers, they were always in trouble. Girls, drugs, booze, you name it. Mick was easily led, Dan a real leader, but very clever at not getting caught. Mick was always the one to get the blame, even though Dan was mostly the instigator. But hey, I don’t blame Dan for Mick following him like a lovesick puppy. He was warned but never took heed.”

“But didn’t you try to stop him? Tell him Dan was no good?”

Paudie shrugged. “I did. But then I gave up when I saw it was no use. I was young myself. Only two years older than them and didn’t really care that much. You know how you are at that age. Selfish. Mostly occupied with your own concerns.”

Megan nodded. “Yes. I suppose. I didn’t really connect with my family when I was in my late teens. My friends and school and boys were all I thought about. Home was just a place to eat and sleep.”

“Exactly. And when you have to work on the farm in your spare time, all you want to do is get away and have as much fun as you can manage. Of course, Dan Nolan didn’t have to do that. His dad was a solicitor with lots of money.”

“Oh?” Megan said. “But I thought he was an estate agent?”

“He is now. Because he gave up the family firm for Dan to run. Land and property was a kind of hobby he got into when he retired. He did very well during the boom. Not so well now, I gather. Maybe that’s why he likes to gamble.”

“So what happened?” Megan asked. “I’ve a feeling something really bad is coming.”

“You’re right.” There was a bitter twist to Paudie’s mouth. “All this fooling around eventually led to big trouble. It was the drugs. Mick got hooked big time. Was in and out of rehab several times. But Danny boy kept out of trouble.”

“Then what happened?”

 
Paudie looked around as more people arrived. Leaning closer, he lowered his voice. “They were in this gang, you see, and Dan was the ring leader. Anyway, to cut a long story short, the whole thing blew up one night when they were all in a car going home from a party. All high on coke. They drove like mad on the road up to the Connor pass. No one knows what they were planning to do there. But on the way down, they drove the car straight into a wall. One of the boys was killed, and Mick got the blame.”

 
“Oh no!”

Paudie nodded. “Mick told me Dan was actually driving, but managed to put the blame on him. Don’t know if that’s true though. But I have my suspicions.”

“What happened to Mick?”

 
“He got seven years for manslaughter.”

Shocked, Megan stared at Paudie. “Where is he now?”

“After getting out of jail, he went to England. He got a job at a building site in Birmingham. He still lives there. Can’t come back here, of course.”

“ Oh God. I had no idea. But Dan—”

“Is the model of good behaviour now, of course.”

Megan put a hand on his arm. “What a horrible thing to happen. It must have been so hard for your family.”

“Yes, it was. My mother had a stroke shortly afterwards. She never recovered and died a year later.”

“Oh God,” Megan said. “How awful. I’m so sorry.”

Paudie put his hand on hers. “Thank you.”

A fanfare interrupted them. “The pageant has started,” Paudie said. “Let’s forget about all of this and enjoy ourselves.”

Megan stared at the row of vintage cars coming into view, and at the newly crowned Rose of Tralee waving to the crowd. She tried to forget about what she had just heard, but Paudie’s story was still in her mind. Not a very unusual story and something that happened far away in someone’s youth, but she knew it would make her look at Dan in a slightly different way.

~ ~ ~

By the time the main steeplechase was about to start, Megan had nearly forgotten about Garret Nolan and the family feud. She borrowed Paudie’s racing binoculars and inspected the horses as they went into the starting gates. Many of them shied and backed away and had to be guided in. But Diana’s Bare Necessities sauntered in as if he was eager to get going.

“He’s quite small,” Megan said. “That’s him there, isn’t it? The little grey horse with the jockey in bright pink?”

Paudie took the binoculars and had a look at the horse. “Yes. I don’t think he has much of a chance. The going is good. But look at the favourite.”

Megan reached for the binoculars again. The favourite, number three, was a big bay with wild eyes. “Yes, probably. Don’t know why I had that mad flutter. Just a feeling it was the right thing to do.”

“You never know.” Paudie patted her hand. “It’s only money.”

“Two hundred euros, what was I thinking? But if I win…” She trained the binocular on the little grey. “Come on, boy, you can do it,” she whispered.