A Change of Heart (The Heartfelt Series) (27 page)

“Well, it doesn’t make any difference any way. You know how I feel about marriage. It’s not for me. Angelique’s clause was irrelevant.” Marianne was desperately trying to dig herself out of a gaping hole.

“Only irrelevant if we stay together and not getting married suits us, what if we split up? What if we meet other people and I want to marry and keep my son.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought, but ...” she burbled.

“I
hope
it’s irrelevant now Angelique is dead but what if Rossini decides to go for custody instead or as the executor of her Will, attempts to impose the conditions of Angelique’s proposal on me. What then?” he said sternly.

“No, surely not.” She was befuddled by the concept of them splitting up, meeting other people.

“It could still all go horribly wrong. Who can I trust when someone I thought was on my side is not on my side at all,” he said.

“No!” she jumped up, “that’s not true!”

“Then why are you sneaking around reading my private papers and trying to decide the future for us without even consulting me?” he turned back to face her, eyes burning.

She was not letting him get away with that.

“You’re a fine one to talk about deciding our future without consultation. You’re the one who turned up here with all your baggage, more or less moving yourself and your son in without being invited!” she barked at him.

“What? Are you serious? Whoa,” he held up his hands, “whoa right there madam. We discussed it, agreed to give it a go, we’re supposed to be in love for God’s sakes!”

“We only discussed it
after
you showed up,” she retorted.

“I couldn’t discuss it before, I couldn’t reach you.” His voice was rising.

“Ha,” she threw back, “what absolute bollocks!”

“And the love thing? Is that absolute bollocks too?” he was mad now.

“What do you think?” she snapped back.

“Oh great, just great!” He stomped to where his jacket lay and dragged it on.

“Look at you, do what you always do when you’re losing an argument. Storm off in a huff. Why don’t you go and see your new best friend, Dermot? Or better still Erin? See Sinead too, tell them all about it!” she said, now furious with herself for going on the attack because she had been in the wrong.
Why could she not just apologise?
She was hopeless at saying sorry, even Oonagh told her off about that.

Ryan sighed. “It’s time to collect the kids, in case you hadn’t noticed. Anyway, you’re probably right. I probably did rush things, I usually do, never think things through. So yes, let’s take a step back, give everyone some air, some thinking time,” he was calmer now. “We’ll go and stay in Maguire’s for a while. I’ll pick up what we need tomorrow. Okay?” he looked into her face.

“But ...” she started to say as he made to go. He gave her a look. “Okay,” she said in a small voice, and he left.

Monty eyed his mistress from his basket, where he had deposited himself as soon as voices were raised. He watched her get up, say “Agh!” very loudly and fling the hapless circle of metal across the room. It pinged off the sink, hit the back of a chair and landed with a slight thud in his basket. He sniffed it, then buried it under his blanket with his other treasures: a plastic bone, a rubber ball and a very shiny worm.

Chapter Twenty Seven
Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

Ryan came upon Padar and Sinead in the kitchen of the pub. Sinead was sitting at the table, Padar had his arm around her. She blew into a tissue as Ryan bumped the double-buggy over the step and into the room. Erin came in carrying a couple of glasses of wine. Sinead ran straight to the children, smothering them with kisses and fussing with belts and coats. Padar gave Ryan a look.

 “Sinead’s going to stay here for a while, till the other thing is settled,” he explained.

 “Makes sense,” Ryan replied.

 “I’ll be glad of a bit of female company,” Erin said in her deadpan way, “You’re all a bit bloke-ish around here, even you and you’re an actor.”

 Ryan took Joey out of the pushchair into his arms.

 “I am not bloke-ish, I’m very in touch with my feminine side I’ll have you know!” He gave her a glare of exaggerated effrontery.

 “Oh really?” asked Erin. “Why is it then, that when you, or the other
Father of the Year
over there,” she tossed a nod at Padar, “have those two poor children for longer than an hour, we need an entire army of females to sort out the devastation you’ve left in your wake.”

 “Here now,” Padar exclaimed, “I take exception to that remark!”

 “Excepting it’s true,” said Ryan, smiling at Erin, who laughed and took a good sip of wine.

 “Is it?” asked Padar. “I didn’t think we did too badly.” He was genuinely perplexed. Sinead came to his defence.

 “I think Erin’s being a little harsh. You both do very well considering, you just need a little more practise,” she smiled at Bridget as she put her in the highchair.

 “Yeah, you’ll be grand by the time these two are ready to go off to university.” Erin looked at the children, then at Sinead. “You shouldn’t be patronising them with ‘you do very well considering’ Sinead. Tell it like it is, they’re both barely competent and need to brace up. It’s a big responsibility having children, I wouldn’t leave a Labrador with these two!”

 Padar was just about to retort, when Sinead put her arm around him.

 “Don’t mind her, Padar, she’s only trying to wind you up. You’re a marvellous father, you both are.” She smiled at Ryan. “You just need a bit of help from a female from time to time. Like I always say, the sexes are equal but different.”

 Erin laughed and drained her glass.

 “Well, why don’t they do their fair share of the work then?” she asked Sinead as she went back out to the bar.

 “Ouch, she’s a bit tetchy,” Ryan said after she had gone.

 “She’s always like that, she doesn’t mean any harm,” Sinead said, “just speaks her mind, that’s all, don’t you think, Padar?”

Padar was still scowling after Erin.

 “True enough, she was always blunt speaking, made Oonagh look like a charm offensive and she could slice you in two with her tongue when she had a mind to. That’s why they were always falling out.”

 “They never meant it though, I’m sure,” Sinead said, leaving her wine untouched as she went to prepare the children’s meal.

 Padar noticed Ryan was very quiet.

 “Fancy a pint?” he asked him.

 “Maybe later,” Ryan replied. “I was just wondering Padar, if you had any spare rooms.”

 Padar went to the booking diary, which was neither use nor ornament since Oonagh died. He rarely remembered to fill it in and relied heavily on Sinead, who might have heard him taking a booking over the phone, reminding him to put the dates in. Padar flicked a couple of pages.

 “Looks okay at the moment, I’ll have the building lads back after the long weekend, but that shouldn’t be a problem. For how many and how long?”

 “The two of us, Joey and myself, indefinitely,” Ryan said.

 Padar and Sinead exchanged a look. Erin shouted in from the bar.

 “Ryan do you want a pint? The other caveman is here and wants to know if you’ll come through and share a few grunts with him.”

 Ryan placed Joey carefully in the other highchair as Sinead dished out the babies’ food.

 “Go ahead,” she said, her eyes still pink and a new worried look on her face. “I’d rather be busy, honest I would.”

 Ruffling his son’s dark hair, Ryan went to see what Dermot wanted.

 The men took their pints into the empty snug.

 “Alright?” Dermot asked his friend. Ryan did not look in the best of form. He just nodded, taking a grateful swig of stout.

 “I’m about to finish lunches, do youse two want anything to eat - sandwiches or a burger obviously - wouldn’t give you anything requiring cutlery, being as you don’t know how to use a knife and fork!” Erin called to them.

 “What’s she like?” Dermot asked, keeping one eye on her shapely bottom as she moved along the optics, dusting as she went.

 “Bit of a handful, I’d say,” Ryan said, flatly.

 “Aren’t they all?” Dermot replied. “Anyway,” he pulled his gaze away from Erin’s rear, “I’ve had word, the job.”

 “It’s real now is it?” said Ryan without enthusiasm.

 “Yes, but there’s a slight set back. It seems the lads down to do it have been unavoidably detained.” Well, that was how Joyce MacReady described it when she spoke to him on the mobile earlier. “So it’s been put back a few weeks while they find a couple of replacements to get the shipment from England to here.”

 “It’s a bit of a voyage that, isn’t it? What if it gets intercepted along the way? What if one of the other forces get lucky and nab the shipment en route?” Ryan asked him.

 “As soon as we know which vessel it’s on, there’ll be an
all-points bulletin
to the entire force, lifeboats, helicopters the lot, ordering them to leave well alone. That’s where we come in,” Dermot explained.

 “But why not let the other fella’s nab it on the way? It would be a lot easier and a lot less risky,” Ryan said.

 “No, far too risky on three counts,” Dermot replied. “There’s a risk that someone in one of the other forces could be bent, and the arms and the cocaine would disappear, ending up somewhere else entirely. Then there’s the risk that an unscheduled interception could go badly wrong, meaning it could be both unsuccessful and result in loss of life; and thirdly, the even bigger risk, that if intercepted by those, how shall I put it, less able than myself, we may never find out who
Mister Big
is and we’ll be no nearer catching the real criminals involved. And that Ryan, is priority number one, that’s what I’ve been tasked to do. Nope, no-one is to come in and give us a hand until I send for them, then they’ll be there in a flash, no worries.”

 Ryan gave Dermot a smile.

 “Sounds exciting.” Then he looked at him squarely, “You’re not joking are you? This is a real job, this could be dangerous?”

 “Not half as dangerous as what would happen if this cargo goes undetected and hits the streets. Think of all the lives it would ruin,” Dermot said.

 “Won’t those lives be ruined anyway?” Ryan asked him. “If not from this source, won’t they get it from somewhere else?”

 “Not if supplies dry up,” Dermot said.

 “But will supplies ever dry up?” Ryan persisted.

 “We’ve got to pray they do, hope there’ll be an end to it and no more babies will be born addicted to crack cocaine,” Dermot said.

 An image of Angelique healthy and heavily pregnant flashed into Ryan’s mind. Thank goodness they managed to get her into a clinic and clean before Joey was born, before such a dreadful fate could have befallen their beautiful little boy.

 “You’re right,” Ryan agreed, grimly.

 Erin appeared at the entrance to the snug. She was holding a tray bearing plates of sandwiches and a bowl of Maguire’s famous chunky chips. She placed it before the men, her black T-shirt with the words
Born to Bitch
emblazoned across her bosom was cut fetchingly low, revealing a tantalising flash of décolletage. Dermot watched her, fascinated. Ryan was miles away.

 “I know you didn’t order anything, but being two bachelors gay, I guessed you’d need something to keep your strength up.” She arched an eyebrow at them, giving a faint wiggle as she left. Dermot fell on the food.

 “What
is
she like?” Dermot asked his friend.

 “She’s like a woman,” Ryan replied unenthusiastically.

 “And what did she mean about the bachelor thing? You’re hardly single,” Dermot said, pushing chips into his mouth.

 “Ah well, I might be a bit single,” replied Ryan, picking at the corner of a beef sandwich.

How Marianne and Ryan managed to avoid each other for a whole week was nothing short of a miracle, bearing in mind Maguire’s side entrance opened directly onto the lane-way which led to Weathervane’s front door. If either of them had spotted the other during that time, they each must have turned and fled, being careful not to run directly into each other’s arms, the island being so small they could have met themselves coming backwards.

 Of course each was desolate without the other. Marianne insisting on doing a rota with the children so she would not miss them too much and Ryan, via a message from Padar, taking Monty for runs on the beach when Marianne had the children. Everyone else thought the situation was either hilarious or heartbreakingly sad. Ryan nearly had an argument with Father Gregory when the priest suggested he acted as unbiased counsellor, so they could discuss their issues, and Marianne sent Miss MacReady away with a flea in her ear when she arrived bearing cake and whiskey in an effort to talk some sense into her stubborn and clearly brokenhearted daughter.

 “Mother, don’t even start!” she said as she opened the door and Miss MacReady, dressed from head to toe in sombre grey flannel, clicked into the hallway. Miss MacReady said nothing, just opened her arms for an embrace. Marianne ignored her and banged on the kettle instead. Miss MacReady lifted Monty for a cuddle, eyeing her daughter shrewdly.

 Marianne turned to her.

 “Look, I don’t want to talk about it to you or anyone else, no offence,” Marianne was snippy. Miss MacReady made no comment. “The truth is, mother, we just don’t get on. We’re okay for a while, and then, we clash. He drives me mad. He more or less accused me of snooping on him because we read those papers. I mean, we were
trying
to help! He’s so full of himself, working out all the time, and chauvinistic, thinks the world revolves around him. I’m sorry, but I can’t live like that. Life was so uncomplicated before he came along. Him and his child - who I love completely, Joey is just gorgeous, and his ex-wife - killing herself all over the place, and his
OCD
agent, Larry
hand me a wipe
Leeson - mind you I really like Larry, he’s a great bloke - and all the other stuff, it’s too much, it’s all
too
much!” She plonked herself down at the kitchen table.

 “I didn’t come to talk to you about Ryan, your situation is your business,” Miss MacReady told her.

 “Really?” asked Marianne disbelieving,
this is a first.

 “You’re adults, nothing to do with me. I bring exciting news.”

 Marianne noticed Miss MacReady was wearing red patent stilettos beneath the long grey skirt.
Not all bad then?

 “I’m going on a trip, to New York. I’m going to stay with Larry, see the sights -
Breakfast at Tiffany’s -
you know the sort of thing.” Miss MacReady was alight.

 “What? How did that come about?” Marianne was surprised.

 “Well, Larry had the most brilliant idea. Now that Phileas and Pat – I’m sure he was adopted you know – have been charged and things have quietened down on the media front, he thought it would be a good idea if I brought the jewels back to New York, back to Mr Rossini. Far more practical than hiring a security firm and much more fun.” She gave a little twirl.

 “Are you mad?” Marianne asked aghast. “It’s too risky, what if you’re mugged, murdered? No way.”

 Miss MacReady frowned at her daughter. “God you can be a pain-in-the-arse killjoy when you want to be, Marianne! It’s not remotely dangerous, I take the jewels in a locked case, check them into the hold, where they stay throughout the flight. I collect them at the other end. Larry and one of Rossini’s men meet me. I hand the case over and hit the town in celebration of a job well done.”

 Marianne scowled back at her. “I see you have it all figured out.”

 “Yep, the week after next. Flight’s booked, the lot!” Miss MacReady told her.

 “Thanks for consulting me.” Marianne was grumpy.

 “Why would I consult you? I’m a grown woman, going on a trip.” Miss MacReady beamed.

 “What about us, with all that’s going on here?” Marianne said.

 Miss MacReady shrugged. “Leave you to it. You’ll do what you want to do whatever anyone else says. As for Ryan, he’s as bad. Now, are we having a whiskey and piece of cake or not?”

 Marianne was incensed, “Well thanks Mother, thanks for all your support, thanks a bunch!”

 “I’ll take that as a no then,” Miss MacReady replied, scooping the goodies into her basket and sweeping from the room in her red high heels.

Ryan was sitting at the table in the kitchen of Maguire’s attempting to do some work on his latest script. The children were sleeping soundly, having spent most of the day with Marianne at the kindergarten. Sinead had taken them for their bath hours ago, saying she wanted an early night herself. Padar was serving a few late-night stragglers in the bar when Erin appeared in the doorway, having been dismissed for the evening.