The Corrigan legacy (19 page)

He gave her another hug, then swung her off her feet. 'I missed you, too. I think of you every time I look at your painting. I'm glad I've got it.'

She bit back an angry denunciation of Des and how he had cheated her about her artistic potential. She didn't want to put barriers between Mitch and his father. 'So, what are we going to do tonight to celebrate?'

'Go out for a curry?' he asked. 'I'm pining for one.'

'Gran doesn't like them,' Judith pointed out.

'I don't mind mild ones,' Hilary said. 'A friend is training me and I've found there are some milder dishes which I quite like.'

Mitch let out a yell of triumph and waved his fist. 'Yessss! Shall I ring and book a table?'

The following morning was a mad scramble to get Mitch off to school in time and make sure he'd packed all he needed for the weekend. Then Judith sat and chatted to her mother, keeping an eye on the clock.

'You're on edge,' Hilary said. 'Surely you're not afraid of Des?'

'No. I just keep wondering why he wants to see me, and feeling it'll be bad news.' She didn't tell her mother about Cal. Well, he might be history now. She was stupid to keep thinking about him.

As she parked outside the restaurant, making sure she was a full five minutes late, she admitted to herself that she did feel nervous. She'd been married to Des for twenty years, for heaven's sake. He'd not have grown horns and a tail in the months since they'd split up!

He was sitting in a corner, swirling red wine round and round in a glass, frowning at it. When he saw her approaching, he stood up and she was sure that was an expression of relief on his face. He looked as if he'd put on a bit of weight and his colour was too high, but otherwise he was much the same.

She allowed the waiter to seat her and hand her a menu.

'You're looking good, Jude.'

'I'm feeling good, thank you.'

'The north must suit you.' He looked down at the table for a minute, fiddling with the edge of his napkin, then said gruffly, 'Sorry about the dirty tricks. I was angry at you.'

'I'm angry at you for a lot of things, but I've not acted so - so childishly.'

He shrugged it off in his usual manner and drained his glass, reaching out for the bottle, a movement forestalled by the attentive waiter. 'Do you want something to drink, Jude?'

'Just a fizzy mineral water with a twist of lime.'

'Given up the booze?'

'I'm driving back to Blackfold this afternoon and I don't want to be done for drink driving, do I?' She waited and when he didn't say anything, prompted, 'Well? What was so important that you had to see me face to face?'

'Let's order the meal first.'

When the waiter had gone, he said abruptly, 'I want a divorce and I need it quickly, if you don't mind. So today I want us to agree on division of goods, custody of Mitch, all that sort of thing.'

'We should have met at my lawyer's, then. I'm not agreeing to anything without his approval.'

'I appreciate that, but we can agree on broad principles today, can't we? The lawyers will only charge us an arm and a leg to do that.'

'We can try. Depends what you want.' She frowned at him. 'Why the sudden hurry?'

He moved uneasily in his seat. 'You're not going to like it.'

She waited.

'Tiff's pregnant. I want to marry her.'

As the waiter brought the food, Judith sat back, shocked by this, then suddenly the humour of it struck her. How many times had he said he didn't want any more children, thank you very much, and three were enough for anyone? 'I bet you didn't get her pregnant on purpose.'

'No. But she wants to keep it. She's getting on, thirty-eight, says it may be her only chance to have a child.'

'And you agreed?'

He shrugged. 'I didn't have much choice. She'll keep the baby whatever I say or do and I—' He hesitated, then finished in a rush, '—want to keep Tiff.'

'You love her?'

'Mmm.'

They spent most of the meal discussing the division of their possessions, then when they'd finished, he said, 'You could have taken me for more than that if you'd been greedy, Jude, except I don't have more as it turns out. I've had a few business upsets lately, thanks to my bloody sister.'

'I don't need more than I've asked for from you. And what's Maeve done to you now?'

'Tricked me. The family business was failing, but she made me pay through the nose for it, knew what I was doing all along. Ironic that that was the final straw between you and me, isn't it?' After another mouthful of wine, he added, 'She always was a manipulative bitch.'

'You don't usually drink so much at lunchtime.' '

'Well, today I feel like it and what do you care now, anyway?' He emptied the rest of the bottle into his glass. 'Maeve's ill, though. I think it's cancer, though I can't find out any details. Her staff are damned close-mouthed.'

'Serves you right for trying to trick her.'

His scowl reappeared. 'Might have known you'd be on her side.'

'I'm not on anyone's side, but I always thought you were being stupid about that family business.' She watched him roll his eyes, looking just like Mitch for a moment, and that took the edge off her anger. 'I don't want to get into a quarrel. Let me jot down what we've agreed and you can check it.' She took out her notebook and scribbled down the details, showed the list to him then looked at the clock. 'I need to get going. Thanks for the lunch.' She picked up her handbag.

'Good luck with the new fellow.'

She turned to stare at him, surprising a smug smile on his face. 'He's not a permanent fixture.'

'Well, good luck with your painting or whatever you're doing with yourself.'

At the mention of painting the anger returned. She leaned over him and said in a low, tight voice, 'I nearly didn't come today when I learned that you'd tricked me about how good an artist I was, especially when I found you'd let this Tiffany person do her writing until she was good enough to be published. Why did you stop me, Des, and not her? You knew how much it meant to me.'

He wriggled uncomfortably. 'I needed your help with entertaining business colleagues, you know I did. And anyway, it would have been embarrassing to have you hawking your paintings round town, as if I couldn't afford to keep you in style.'

'And you won't need her help with your colleagues?' Judith tried to control her anger, but couldn't help adding, 'That, Des Corrigan, was the meanest thing of all, and it will always rankle with me. I'm being civilized about our split because of Mitch and because I'm not greedy. You don't deserve my forbearance, though, so here's something to remember our last meal together by.'

She picked up his glass of red wine and tipped it over his head, then walked out.

'You stupid cow!' he yelled across the restaurant.

She turned at the door and smiled at the sight of the red wine dripping down his face and staining his shirt. It was a childish thing to do, as childish as the stupid tricks he'd played on her, but it felt good.

Now, perhaps, they could both move on.

When they arrived in Blackfold, Mitch insisted on a tour of the house before he went for a walk around the village while Judith prepared tea. When he came back, he ate as heartily as ever, then washed the dishes, something that surprised her.

'Gran says you either cook or clear up,' he informed her. 'I don't know much about cooking, though she's teaching me, so I usually wash up.'

Afterwards they settled down in the living room and she offered him a glass of white wine.

'It's nice not being a child any more,' he said thoughtfully.

'How grown up do you feel?'

He shrugged. 'It varies from day to day.'

It was such a lovely evening she didn't even consider switching on her computer and looking at her emails. She wanted to spend every moment she could with her son. Besides, she felt tired after two days with long drives. 'Did you know your dad's new woman is pregnant?'

Mitch gaped at her for a minute, then grinned. 'Got to give it to him, he's a lively old sod.'

'Not so much of the old. He's only fifty-eight.'

'Fifty-nine next month, seventeen years older than you. You look more like his daughter than his wife sometimes, especially lately.'

'I do?' "

'Yes. You look younger, more casual and relaxed, since you left him. He's drinking heavily and leaving too much to Raymond Tate.' 

'Are you still intending to study business at university?'

'Yes. I've told Dad and he's cool about paying for it, says he's glad I don't want to do one of those useless arty courses.' He chuckled. 'When you think how badly I draw, I'm surprised he even considered that a possibility.'

'I don't think he knows about it.'

'No, just about how poor I am at sport. Once I leave school, I'm never going to play any sort of sport again. What I like best is going for long walks and watching birds and animals.'

'I like that, too.'

Later she said, 'Tell me about the wedding - and about her. Mum says she's not as bad as we'd expected.'

'I suppose not. If she weren't shacking up with my father, I'd not mind her, but I think it's weird the way he goes for skinny blondes. And it's embarrassing that she looks even younger than you.' He smiled mischievously. 'I like them more curvy.'

'I hope not too many of them.'

'No, just one or two, here and there. I'm not interested in guys, in case you were worried.'

'I wasn't.'

He sat staring at the fire for a moment or two, frowning, then burst out, 'I don't know what Tiffany sees in Dad, but you can tell she loves him from the way she looks at him. How does he do it? How does he pull so many women?' He let out a snort of disgust. 'Bet he leaves her as soon as her belly starts to puff up.'

'He told me he's going to marry her.'

Mitch groaned. 'How gross! Third wife!'

She changed the subject and got him talking about cars, because Des had promised him a new one as soon as he passed his driving test, and being Mitch he'd already started researching what was available. In some ways, he was very much a rich man's son, and she wished she could make him better understand the value of money, because he didn't, not really.

They didn't go to bed until after midnight. And when they got to the top of the stairs, he gave her a quick hug and said gruffly, 'I've missed you, Mum. Gran's great, but she's not you.'

Clouds roll in from the west, threatening rain. A short, sharp shower darkens roofs and batters young flowers into submission. The temperature drops and the storm builds slowly, inexorably, confidently.

Kate and Mark arrived at Saltern House mid-afternoon. She stared at it in delight. 'What a beautiful house! I can see why my father was upset about his sister getting it.'

'It wasn't like this when Maeve took over. I've seen photos. She's done a lot to restore it.'

'She never married?' 

'Yes. But they divorced. She couldn't have children.'

'How sad.'

The car drew up and Mark got out and came to help her. 'You're looking a little better.'

'I'm feeling better. Tired, still, but not so fuzzy-brained.'

'Come and meet Maeve then. I'll unload the car later.'

She swallowed hard. 'I'm a bit nervous.'

'You'll like her. Everyone does. Except for cheats and hypocrites. She has a sharp way with them.'

The door opened and Lena stood there, staring at Kate as if she was seeing a ghost.

'Is something wrong?'

'You're so like her when she was young, even to the colour of your hair. I can't believe what I'm seeing.' Then a gust of chill wind blew around them and she clicked her tongue in exasperation at herself. 'What am I doing, keeping you on the doorstep? Come in, come in. I'm Lena, Maeve's housekeeper.'

'And friend,' Mark added.

Lena led the way towards the back of the house and opened the door to a small, exquisitely furnished sitting room. A woman was sitting staring into the flames of a gas fire, seeming lost in thought. 'She's here,' she announced.

Maeve turned round and looked at Kate in surprise. 'Goodness!'

'Isn't she like you as a girl?' Lena said. 'Will I bring you some tea?'

'Yes, please do.' Maeve held out her hand. 'Please excuse me for not getting up to greet you properly, Kate.'

She went to grasp her aunt's hand and bent to kiss her cheek. 'You've got green eyes, too.'

'It seems rather a dominant trait. We all have, Leo, Des and myself.'

'My brother has brown eyes and hair.'

'There! I knew he wasn't a true Corrigan when he spurned my offer without even meeting me.'

Kate smiled sadly. 'He's very loyal to Dad. Those two have always been close.'

Maeve looked at her sharply, but didn't make the obvious comment. 'Come and sit down. Mark, would you mind if we ladies had a quiet chat together?'

'Not at all. I'll bring Kate's bags in and cadge a cup of tea from Lena.'

Kate sat on the couch, feeling tired but more cheerful, for some reason she couldn't fathom. After all it was too early to see whether she could be cured.

'You don't look well.'

'Neither do you.'

They looked at one another solemnly, then Maeve leaned forward and said, 'It's a damned nuisance, isn't it? Let's hope they can sort you out, at least. Now, tell me about yourself and about that stupid brother of mine. As if he could have run our engineering works!'

'He runs his hardware store well enough.'

'I'm sure he does. He always did like fiddling round with tools. But he'd not have liked big-scale accounting and managing a large staff.'

'No. I can't see him doing that sort of thing, I must admit.'

'Did you think I took the business away from them on a mere whim? Leo would have let it run down still further. And Des - he'd have indulged in a few sharp practices once he found out how bad things really were. He always was impatient.'

'They hated you for taking over the business.'

Maeve shrugged. 'We quarrelled all through our youth. It was no different as adults. We couldn't have worked together so one of us had to take over. Some families don't know how to live in harmony. Ours was one of them. Now, tell me about yourself, your hopes and ambitions.' She looked at the clock. 'I have one hour then Lena will be nagging me to rest, so don't waste time.'

Kate leaned her head back. 'I think when you rest, I will too.'

Maeve chuckled. 'We're well matched, then.'

The door opened and Lena came in pushing a small trolley. 'Mark phoned to tell us about the wheat, so I went out and bought some wheat-free things. I'll soon get the hang of it.' She studied them and added, 'And I want to see a difference to this trolley when I come back for it. You both look as if you need feeding up. Maeve, don't forget you'll need a rest in an hour.'

When she'd gone, they laughed.

'Better eat something or she'll nag us to death,' Maeve said.

Furious at Judith for making a scene in a restaurant and embarrassed that it was in this particular restaurant, one of his favourites, Des went round to Tiff's flat to change his clothes. He let himself in, calling, 'It's only me.'

She peered out of the smallest bedroom, which she used as an office, and gaped at the sight of him. 'What happened?'

'My damned wife is what happened. The bitch tipped a glass of red wine all over me.' He saw amusement in her face and growled, 'It's not funny. This shirt will never be the same.'

'You'd better wash and change, then put the shirt to soak in cold water. I have to get back to work.'

As she turned away he pulled her round. 'I need some company, Tiff.'

'I'm just in the middle of writing a crucial scene. I'll see you later.' She walked back into the office and shut the door.

He stared at it in annoyance. She'd never done that before, had always been attentive to his needs.

She'd never been a published author before, either. He wished she wasn't now, wished she was still absolutely dependent on him.

After cleaning himself up, he made a cup of coffee and sat sipping it. Should he insist Tiff come out and talk to him? After all, he was the one paying for this place. On the other hand, she'd been very determined about going on with her writing.

Moodily he switched on the TV, then switched it off again and stood up. 'I'm going back to work!' he yelled. 'I'll see you this evening.'

'All right. Bye.'

He wasn't good at understanding modern women, wished they hadn't got all bolshy and liberated. But he didn't want to lose Tiff. Or later on face the humiliation of a third marriage breaking up. So he had to tread carefully. He had enough problems with the business.

'Sodding feminists!' he muttered under his breath as he hailed a taxi. 'They've got a lot to answer for.'

Lily lay awake until very late on the Thursday night plotting how to escape. It'd be best to do it while Wayne was out, because her mother let her spend the odd half hour by herself and he never did. But her mother still kept popping in to see how she was, or using the excuse of bringing her up a cup of tea to check on her, so even that wouldn't be safe enough.

In the end, she decided to fake an upset stomach so that she could take refuge in the bathroom, but wondered how she could convince them about this, since they were all eating the same sort of food.

On the Friday morning, while Wayne was out, she said casually, 'Could we get some takeaway tonight? I'm fed up of eating green stuff.'

Kerry looked at her. 'You know Wayne doesn't like cheap takeaway food.'

'Well, I do and I haven't had a pizza for a million years.'

Kerry wrinkled her nose in disgust. 'I don't know how you can eat that stuff- or why you don't get fat on it. Cal pandered to your low eating habits more than I ever will.'

Lily felt her eyes fill with tears at the mention of his name and didn't try to hide that from her mother. Then she swung round and went to stare out of the window, making sure her shoulders drooped. 'I can't bear it,' she said in a choked voice. 'The thought that I'll not see Dad again until I'm old enough to leave home, is—' She let her voice falter to a halt and wrapped her arms around herself.

Kerry came over to stand beside her. 'Darling, it will get easier, I promise you.'

'No, it won't! You don't care about him any more, but I do and I always will. He's the only father I've ever had. And I promise you this, as soon as I turn eighteen - at one second past midnight! - I'll be leaving you and going back to him. What's more, I know for certain he'll still want me.' She had the satisfaction of seeing how shaken her mother looked, so let the tears overflow some more and ran up the stairs, sobbing.

It wasn't all faked, either.

When Wayne's car drew up, she waited for the call from her mother to come downstairs, but it didn't happen. Hs entered the house then there was silence, which probably meant they were talking about her in hushed voices. 

Ten minutes later, her mother called up in that bright, artificial tone Lily hated, 'Darling, why don't you come down and join us for lunch?'

It was an order more than a request, so she wiped her eyes and went downstairs, keeping sad thoughts in her mind.

She fiddled with her salad, while Wayne brewed himself some fancy coffee. That man was certainly into caffeine.

'We'll get you a pizza tonight to cheer you up,' her mother said. 'Special treat.'

'Really?'

'I said so, didn't I?'

'Thanks. I'd like double cheese with all the trimmings.' She saw Wayne grimace and shake his head disapprovingly. Well, let him! He could crunch something healthy with those big white teeth of his, but when you were feeling sad, unhealthy food was what hit the spot.

The pizza was delicious and she was relieved that it was a small size so that she could eat the lot and leave no 'evidence'.

She waited until twenty past midnight to rush noisily along to the bathroom and pretend to throw up. Her mother called out from outside, wanting to be let in.

'I'm all right'

'You're not. You've just been sick.'

'Well, I'm not doing a public performance, thank you very much.' She stuck her fingers down her throat until she retched and pretended to be vomiting again, flushing the toilet to hide the fact that she wasn't.

When she came out, her mother was waiting for her. 'How are you?'

She shrugged. 'Better, I guess. I got rid of it, anyway. I feel a bit shivery, though.'

'I'll get you a hot water bottle.' Kerry went downstairs, forgetting to switch off the alarm system and a siren shrilled out.

With a curse, Wayne rushed out of their bedroom and ran down to fix it, but he had to ring the people who monitored the security and prove who he was.

Lily sat up in bed, hugging her knees and grinning. This was better than she'd hoped.

Hearing footsteps coming up, she slid down under the covers, letting one hand lie across her face.

Her mother passed her the hot water bottle and felt her forehead. 'Do you want me to stay with you?'

'No, thanks. I'm old enough to manage on my own.'

'You'll call if you need anything? I'll leave our bedroom door open and you must do the same.'

'All right. And Mum'

'Yes?'

'Thanks.'

Lily took great pleasure in waiting until they were asleep, with Wayne's gentle bubbling snores wafting along the landing. Then, taking a deep breath, she pounded along to the bathroom and did a repeat performance, making sure it was shorter this time.

After assuring her mother she was all right, she went back to bed and enjoyed a sound sleep, not waking until nearly nine o'clock. A glance through the landing window showed that Wayne's car was gone, so she went downstairs.

Her mother was in the kitchen. 'Want something to eat?'

Lily was ravenous but shook her head. 'No. Just a cup of tea.'

'Perhaps a piece of dry toast?'

'No, thanks. Honest. I'm still feeling a bit queasy, if you must know.'

As she sipped the tea, she asked, 'Where's Wayne? I thought you were going out this morning and he was staying on guard duty.'

'He had an urgent business call and had to go into the office.'

'Oh.' Lily drank the tea and went to get dressed, choosing practical clothes suitable for climbing out of bathroom windows. Now that the time had come to act, she felt nervous. And hungry.

When she came down, she sat slumped in a chair, rubbing her belly. 'I've got a pain.'

'That time of month?' Kerry looked at the calendar. 'No, of course it isn't.'

'I think I've got an upset stomach. Do you suppose the demon pizza is going to hit me at both ends?' She let out a small grunt and clutched herself again. 

'Could be.'

'I think I'll go up and - um - stay near the bathroom.'

Lily went up and pulled the sheet off the bed, stuffed her purse into her pocket then locked herself in the bathroom. Taking the old scissors out of the cistern, she tried to cut the sheet. They were rather blunt, but she managed to get a start with them on cutting the hemmed edges. She flushed the toilet and ripped the sheet quickly into strips under the cover of the cistern refilling, then began knotting them together as quickly as she could.

Her mother's voice outside the door made her jump in shock.

'Are you all right, Lily?'

'Yes. Just an upset tum. Not too bad, but I think I'll stay in here for a bit.'

'Call out if you need me.'

When her mother had gone downstairs, Lily opened the window then tied the makeshift rope round the bath taps and let it unroll down the wall outside. It wasn't as long as she'd expected, but she could jump the last bit. She'd jumped off higher walls than that.

Flushing the toilet again, she began to wriggle out of the window. This was the most dangerous part of the escape. She had to cling to the window frame and the makeshift rope as she eased her body out.

She had been worrying that one of the neighbours would see her and come round to tell her mother, but soon forgot that because it was all much scarier than she'd expected and the drop seemed huge from where she was crouching.

She lowered herself over the edge, hanging on to the makeshift rope for grim life. The wind was blowing hard now, and when she tried to get a purchase on the sheet, her feet kept slipping. It was far harder to keep a foothold on a flat piece of sheet than it had been on the ropes in the gym at school - and she'd never been good at climbing those.

Taking a deep breath she began moving down again, but it hurt her arms. To her horror the rope jerked suddenly and dropped her a few inches, jerking her feet loose. When she looked up she saw that the first knot had slipped. Even as she looked, it slipped again.