My Mother's Secret (24 page)

‘I mightn’t have married James, for a start,’ replied Sarah.

‘And I wouldn’t have felt that I’d let Mum and Dad down,’ added Lucinda.

‘It’s not my fault.’ Jenny wrapped her arms around herself. ‘You can’t blame me for your choices.’

‘We always had to measure up,’ Sarah said. ‘And we were always falling short.’

‘Please don’t say that,’ begged Jenny. ‘Please don’t blame me for everything that’s gone wrong in your lives. And for how you feel about it.’

Sarah opened her mouth but saw Lucinda’s warning look. And so she didn’t say anything else.

Alivia was watching her mother and her aunts. She could tell by Jenny’s face that whatever was being said wasn’t what she wanted to hear, and she felt sorry for her. Today was meant to have been a huge celebration but it had turned into a total disaster. Which, if it wasn’t for everything that had unfolded, might have been funny, because Roisin had been her usual self in micromanaging everything and it had been amusing, on one level, to see the expression on her face when Jenny had dropped her bombshell. But Steffie … Alivia’s heart went out to her younger cousin. It must have been an awful shock for her to find out about her father like that. No wonder she went haring off into the rain. All the same, who would’ve thought it of Jenny? An illicit love affair. An unexpected pregnancy. And all that on top of the fake wedding in Rome! We all think, Alivia mused, that the older generation lead much duller lives than us, but the truth is that everyone has their own crisis to deal with.

She took out her phone and frowned. No messages from Dermot even though she’d sent him a couple of selfies taken in the garden, and had then texted him to say that he was missing out on major drama at Aranbeg but that she’d fill him in later. He usually liked drama and scandal. She knew he was probably busy at the charity event but that didn’t mean he couldn’t send her even one text in reply to all of hers. Her main concern was that Sophie Fisher was at the event too, because she and Dermot were both patrons of the charity. There was no reason for Alivia to think that there was anything more than a professional relationship between them, but as far as everyone else was concerned, Sophie and Dermot were still a happily married couple. And despite what she’d said to Steffie earlier, Alivia wasn’t comfortable with the deception.

‘It is clear that Davey and Colette haven’t found Steffie yet.’ Camilla spoke as Daisy left the adults to get a drink, and drew Alivia’s attention away from her mobile, which she put back into her bag. ‘He would’ve called by now if they had.’

‘I guess so,’ Alivia said. ‘It might not have been such a good idea to go chasing after her. She’s an adult. She can look after herself.’

‘This is not what Davey says about her,’ Camilla said.

‘Really?’

‘Or Carl,’ added Bernice. ‘He always says that she has her head in the clouds. Like Jenny.’

‘She’s not as dopey as everyone’s making out,’ said Alivia. ‘She has her own business, for goodness’ sake.’

‘But she doesn’t make any money,’ said Camilla. ‘It is important if you have a business to know how to generate profit, don’t you think?’

‘Well …’

‘Davey told me she set up her business because she couldn’t find anything else. But that if it weren’t for her parents she would have no money because she’s living in their house rent-free.’

‘Not completely rent-free,’ Alivia pointed out, although she only had sketchy knowledge about Steffie’s financial affairs. ‘Besides, it takes time to build a business. It’s good of Pascal and Jenny to help her out while she finds her feet.’

‘I don’t disagree,’ said Camilla. ‘But I don’t know if she’ll ever find her feet, as you say. It seems to me that she’s a nice girl but not a businesswoman.’

‘You hardly know her,’ protested Alivia.

‘I don’t need to,’ said Camilla. ‘It’s easy to see.’

‘Not everyone has to be a ruthless businesswoman,’ said Bernice. ‘Sometimes it’s good just to be nice.’

‘Not if you’re trying to earn a living.’ Camilla shrugged. ‘I am not trying to be critical of Steffie. After all, I believe that there is more to life than simply making a profit. But you have to make some money to survive.’

‘Hopefully Steffie’s business will make money one day,’ said Alivia.

Camilla said nothing.

‘Anyway, my sister’s career choices are hardly the most pressing issue.’ Roisin had kept quiet while everyone was analysing Steffie. ‘Where she’s gone and how she’s feeling are more important.’

‘She is embarrassed,’ Camilla said. ‘But there is nothing for her to be embarrassed about. So her father is not her father. And you are her half-sister. She will get over that. I have half-brothers and sisters. It is normal.’

‘Not for us,’ said Roisin.

‘It doesn’t matter who your biological parent is.’ Camilla was dismissive. ‘It is who
you
are that counts.’

Easy to say, Roisin thought. Not always as easy to accept.

Davey and Colette were debating about whether to go back to Aranbeg. They hadn’t seen Steffie’s car. In fact since they’d been out looking for her they’d only seen one other vehicle, a green Land Rover heading in the direction of McGovern’s farm.

‘She might have made it to Wexford,’ Davey said. ‘In which case we could be driving around for hours without spotting her.’

‘Does she have any money with her?’ Colette looked at him thoughtfully. ‘She left her phone behind; maybe she left her bag behind too. And that means she can’t stay anywhere.’

‘Why did she have to be such an idiot!’ exclaimed Davey. ‘I know she was upset, but running away never solves anything.’

‘Yet you did,’ said Colette.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You left Ireland after you split up with that girl, didn’t you?’

‘I left because I got a job in Denmark,’ Davey said.

‘But would you have taken it if you’d still been going out with Emily.’

‘How on earth do you know the name of my very ex-girlfriend?’ Davey asked in astonishment.

‘I’m female,’ said Colette. ‘We remember these things.’

‘Mother of God.’ He shook his head. ‘I hardly remember her name myself.’

‘I talked to Steffie about it before,’ explained Colette. ‘She told me she’d always felt a little guilty because she was the one who’d mentioned that she’d seen Emily with someone else.’

‘You women are incredible.’ Davey was still taken aback. ‘I didn’t even think you and Steffie were in touch with each other.’

‘We’re not that close,’ Colette said. ‘I bumped into her in town one day and she mentioned it.’

Colette didn’t add that Steffie had only told her because she’d specifically asked how Davey was. When she’d heard, she’d had to stop herself phoning him to ask him if he was OK.

‘I certainly didn’t run away because of her,’ Davey said. ‘I admit that I was a bit hurt. But I would’ve taken the job regardless.’

‘And would Emily have come with you to Denmark?’

‘How would I know? It’s not something I ever even thought about.’

‘How is it that men get over things so quickly?’ she asked.

‘Hey, you get over things quickly yourself,’ he returned. ‘Three fiancés?’

Colette was silent.

‘Sorry,’ said Davey. ‘I didn’t mean it to sound as though I was getting at you.’

‘You’re not,’ she said. ‘You’re right. Three of them and I don’t regret any of those break-ups.’

‘Why did you split with them all?’ he asked.

Because none of them were you, she thought. Although that wasn’t what she said. Instead she joked that she liked engagements but not weddings, which made him laugh. And then they discussed again what to do about Steffie.

‘Tell you what,’ said Davey. ‘We’ll go back up the road, past the house. I’ve just remembered there’s a garage about two kilometres further along, on the way to Castlemoran. We’ll ask if anyone’s seen her. If not, we’ll give up and hope she’s found somewhere in Wexford to stay.’

‘Does she have any friends there?’ asked Colette.

‘She could have,’ said Davey. ‘I wouldn’t know, but perhaps Mum and Dad do. I’ll phone them and ask.’

It was Roisin he called, and she told him that Steffie hardly spent any time at Aranbeg these days and that she didn’t know of any friends, but to hold on while she asked their parents. When she spoke again, it was to say that neither Jenny nor Pascal were aware of friends in Wexford, but that Steffie could, of course, have gone back to Dublin. They knew that her best friend there was called Brianna but they didn’t know her number.

‘I tried checking her phone,’ said Roisin. ‘But there’s a code and I don’t know it. I had two guesses, neither of which was right, so I stopped before I locked her out.’ The frustration in her voice was evident.

‘OK,’ said Davey. ‘Colette and I will give it one last shot and let you know.’

‘Good luck,’ said Roisin.

‘How’s Mum?’

‘So-so.’

‘And Camilla?’

‘She’s fine,’ said Roisin. ‘Why wouldn’t she be?’

‘Well, it’s not what you’d call a great introduction to the family for her, is it?’ said Davey. ‘She’ll think we’re all complete nutters.’

‘And she’ll be right,’ said Roisin.

Davey disconnected the call while Colette turned the car around and began to head back towards Aranbeg. The flood at the end of the road was as deep as ever, but she drove through it quickly and fearlessly. Then she took them past the house and up the hill.

‘The garage is on the left,’ said Davey as they peered through the windscreen. ‘A few minutes after the crossroads.’

‘I remember it,’ Colette said. ‘There was a shop there when we were kids. We used to buy ice creams. You introduced me to the Wobbly Wobbly Wonder.’

‘Did I?’ Davey grinned. ‘It was my favourite.’

‘I liked Brunch,’ she told him.

‘A good one too.’ He nodded.

They fell into an almost companionable silence as they each recalled their childhood summers. And then, about half a kilometre before the garage, Colette gave a cry and brought the Santa Fe to a stop. She and Davey exchanged worried glances.

Because in the ditch at the side of the road was Steffie’s blue Citroën.

The passenger door was wide open.

And there was no sign of her.

Chapter 23

Steffie couldn’t decide if her blurry vision was due to the tears that were continually welling up in her eyes, the rain beating against the windscreen of the car, or the fact that she’d been drinking champagne earlier. In her frenzied dash out of the house, she’d forgotten about the alcohol, and even though she’d switched to cranberry juice later, she was uncomfortably aware that it would be better not to be driving at all. Which meant that she should really turn around and go home. But even if she wanted to, turning around in the narrow country road was impossible. She remembered a garage further up the road that would be a better place to stop. With a bit of luck she could get some hot coffee there and drink a gallon of it before … Well, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do or where she wanted to go yet. Maybe she’d be in a better frame of mind to figure that out after the coffee.

She sniffed a couple of times and rubbed the back of her neck. Her eyes were hot and stinging and her head ached. The rain drummed even harder against the windscreen and Steffie had to squint to see through it. Then she shrieked in disbelief as a dark shape shot across the road in front of the car. She yanked the steering wheel to avoid what she supposed was a fox or a cat (and hoped wasn’t a ghoul or a murderer) and felt the Citroën skid on the surface water. With an increasing sense of horror, she realised that she wasn’t in control any more and that she was heading for the ditch on the opposite side of the road. She tried desperately to correct the skid but the wheels had lost traction, and despite her turning into it as she once remembered being told to do, the car wasn’t responding. She couldn’t believe that she was about to crash. Yet there was nothing she could do to stop it. The Citroën hit the grass verge with a jolt and for a second she thought that everything was going to be all right because the impact hadn’t been forceful enough to deploy the airbags. But then she felt the ground give way beneath her as the vehicle toppled slowly and inexorably into the ditch, taking her with it.

Her seat belt kept her anchored in her seat, although her head bumped sharply against the driver’s door window when the car tilted sideways, stunning her for a moment. When her vision cleared, she could see the hedgerows and grass of the ditch through the window. She could also see that the ditch, normally dry, was full of water, which was already trickling into the footwell of the car. She felt a rising sense of panic as she scrabbled frantically at her seat belt without managing to release it. She recalled again her childhood fantasy of pretending to be a drowning princess, lying in water with her hair spread out, about to be rescued. But that had been in the safety of the bathroom, knowing her family was nearby. Who was going to rescue her now? Even as she felt around for it, she remembered with a sense of despair that she’d left her mobile phone at Aranbeg. She couldn’t call for help. Her mind was swamped with images of people finding her dead body anchored in the car, and the type of story that might be on the evening news. She imagined Sophie Fisher reporting on the devastation wreaked by the storm. Sophie was always good with the tragedy stories. Her lyrical voice with its soft cadences sounded both sympathetic and reassuring. Perhaps Alivia would do a programme on the storms too, full of human interest and drama and the sad story of her drowned cousin. And after the TV reports, there’d be a photo in the paper and an interview with her grieving mother … At the thought of Jenny talking about how much she loved her, Steffie gritted her teeth.

Pull yourself together, she told herself. You’re not dead yet. And you’re not going to die either. The water isn’t even in the car yet, for crying out loud. All you have to do is to stop panicking, undo the seat belt and get out. Having given herself the lecture, she immediately felt a bit better. She took her time with the belt, finally managing to release it, then clambered across the centre console of the car to open the passenger door. It took some effort but she eventually succeeded. She pulled the jacket she was wearing more closely around her – it was a man’s jacket that she’d taken on her race from the house and it didn’t fit her properly, but it offered some protection from the relentless rain.