Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit) (12 page)

Read Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit) Online

Authors: Isabella Connor

Tags: #romance, #fiction, #Irish traveller, #contemporary

Jack saw his mother throw a warning glance at Nicholas. He turned to his father. ‘Dad?’

Nicholas sipped his wine, then set the glass down carefully. ‘Well, under the circumstances, I don’t think it would be appropriate for us to attend.’

There it was.
Appropriate.
The word Jack had heard far too often throughout his life. A word that was supposed to govern every action, every emotion, including grief apparently. ‘I’d hoped you might have reconsidered,’ he said. ‘If only for show. The Stewart family united in grief …’ His words carried more than a hint of sarcasm.

‘After Annie walking out on you all those years ago?’

Jack frowned at his father’s words. ‘It was me she walked out on. If I can put that aside, why can’t you?’

‘I’ll come to the funeral.’

Jack smiled his gratitude at Claire’s offer. She hated conflict, so it must have been difficult to speak out.

‘There you are. Claire to the rescue.’ Richard was smirking. ‘She’ll cry up a storm, I’m sure.’

‘I
liked
Annie!’ Claire’s voice was so loud everyone turned to look at her. She blushed but stared her husband down. Jack wanted to hug her.

‘I’ll go, too,’ said Gavin. ‘Get a look at my pikey cousin.’

How Jack would love to rearrange Gavin’s smug features, but he’d have to find another way to prevent his nephew from attending. For Matt’s sake, as well as Luke’s. Matt didn’t always have his father’s self-control, and he’d become very protective of Luke. Any rude comments from Gavin could easily spark trouble. ‘I think it best if it’s just people who actually knew Annie,’ Jack said, grasping at the only reasonable excuse he could think of.

‘First you want to swell the numbers, then you don’t,’ said Richard. ‘Make your mind up. None of her own relatives coming then? Or can we expect an influx of caravans …?’

‘Will you be having a meal afterwards, Jack? At the house?’ asked Claire, interrupting Richard, who looked surprised and annoyed. Claire was always on Jack’s side but was usually too overwhelmed by Richard’s personality to speak her mind. Today though, she had proved a real ally.

‘Sarah’s doing the catering,’ he said. ‘Afternoon tea at the house.’

‘Speaking of catering,’ said Grace, ‘you won’t believe what they served for pudding at the Conservative Women’s Club luncheon last week. Tinned peaches with synthetic cream. I simply couldn’t eat it. Something should be done about their chef …’

And polite conversation was restored, all
inappropriate
topics brushed under the carpet, Annie and Luke dismissed as irrelevant. Jack looked at Grace, chattering away about nothing of any consequence, and failed to see a mother, just an insufferable snob. Now he was glad his parents wouldn’t be at the funeral.

Lunch was over and the crowd in the pub was starting to thin out. Maggie was talking to someone, and Kate had just sat down opposite Luke. He told her the cheesecake was great. What to talk about next?

‘So you’re Irish,’ said Kate. ‘I’ve been to a few horse shows there.’

‘You like horses?’ said Luke, clutching at this straw of a common interest. ‘Me too.’

‘I love them. We own the local stables. Maybe you’d like to visit?’

‘Sure.’ God, that sounded offhand. ‘I’d like that,’ he added quickly. ‘It’s just, well, I can’t see past the funeral right now.’

Kate reached across the table to touch Luke’s hand, and he almost jumped. ‘Of course. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. It’s Wednesday, isn’t it?’

‘How d’you know that?’

‘My mum’s doing the catering. She’s asked me to help out.’

Luke hoped Jack and Sarah had parted on good terms. He’d seen a movie once where a woman had served her ex-boyfriend’s family beef that had passed its sell-by date.

They smiled at each other, but the moment didn’t last. A group of people banged through the pub door and came over to the table. A red-haired girl wearing a low-cut top and blinding pink lipstick took the chair next to Luke. Kate introduced him as Matt’s brother. The redhead gazed at him. ‘Are those eyelashes for real?’ she drawled. ‘I’m Abbie.’

‘I saw him first,’ Luke heard Kate whisper, and he blushed.

‘Welcome, Matt’s little brother!’ A male voice suddenly boomed above Luke’s head, its owner tall and thin with dark hair flopping over one eye. He was wearing a T-shirt that declared
Looking good is a curse.
‘Welcome to Baronsmere – England’s most boring backwater, a rathole teeming with turgid Tories who’ll be first against the wall come the revolution.’

This outburst, accompanied by flamboyant arm gestures, left Luke too stunned to reply. The speaker was hustled aside.

‘So speaks The Honourable Timothy Leighton who forgets he’ll also be against that wall when the revolution comes. Allister – Al. Abbie’s twin. Nice to meet you, Luke.’

‘Thanks,’ Luke said, wishing he had something more original to say, but Al and Tim were already wandering off to the snooker table.

As Abbie headed off to the bar for crisps, Maggie came over. ‘Ready to go, Luke?’ she asked. He nodded, feeling disappointed. He wanted to stay longer.

‘I’ll see you Wednesday, Luke,’ said Kate, helping him to settle onto his crutches. ‘And if you feel up to it, maybe we can sort out the visit to the stables.’

He smiled at her. At last a bright spark on a very bleak horizon.

‘Pop your eyes back in, darling. It’s not at all attractive.’

Sarah joined Kate at a table near the window. Her daughter had been deep in conversation with Luke Kiernan. Now she was watching him as he left the Foresters and Sarah was not happy with that look in her eye. Whatever plans Kate might have in that direction would have to be nipped in the bud.

‘Don’t know what you mean, Mum,’ said Kate, with a dreamy smile that confirmed Sarah’s suspicions. Her fears.

‘Looks like your friend has the same idea.’ Sarah nodded towards Abbie, leaning on a snooker cue and also watching Luke through the pub window as Maggie helped him into the car. It wouldn’t be ideal but rather Abbie than Kate. Abbie’s family owned the largest farm in the area. Wealthy enough, though with little class. Abbie’s father was happier drinking in The Fox and Feathers, and that suited Sarah just fine.

It would be far better all round, though, if Luke Kiernan were completely out of the picture. Out of Cheshire, out of England. Out of Sarah’s head.

Seeing Luke had given her quite a jolt. Made her remember what it was like back then when a naïve, unsophisticated Traveller girl had made her feel so insignificant. Turned Jack’s head just as Sarah had decided he was
the one
. And now, here was Annie’s son, raised in Ireland as a Traveller instead of one of Jack’s heirs – though that might change if he were to stay around. Perish the thought. His kind didn’t belong in Baronsmere – and certainly not with Kate, who had a bright future ahead of her. A university degree, a career and eventually a good marriage. Not living in a trailer, constantly on the move, giving birth every other year until she was old before her time. Sarah shuddered. No, there would be no
Big Fat Gypsy Wedding
for her daughter. Not if she had any say in it.

‘Are you listening, Mum? I said I’ve already warned Abbie off.’ Kate’s expression was mischievous. ‘Come on, lighten up. I’ve only known Luke an hour or so. But I think I’ll go to the funeral on Wednesday.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Kate. I need you at the Stewarts to oversee the food delivery – to make sure everything is there and laid out correctly. What on earth do you want to go to a funeral for? They aren’t enjoyable, you know.’

Kate widened her eyes. ‘Are they not? There go my plans for a fun day out. Anyway, you don’t need me to organise the buffet – you’ve got very reliable staff you can trust. Matt said there probably won’t be many at the funeral. Very few family and friends. I think that’s sad, don’t you? And Matt will be upset – she was his stepmother, after all.’

‘Ah, so you’re going to support Matt.’

‘I won’t buy you a fishing rod for your birthday,’ Kate said. ‘You don’t need one! Okay, I’m going to support Luke as well. It will be horrible for him to see such a low turnout for someone he loved.’

‘As you said yourself, you’ve only known him for an hour.’

Kate gave an impatient sigh. ‘He’s Matt’s brother and Matt’s my friend. If it comes to it … why are
you
going? To support Jack even though you’ve broken up?’

‘Jack invited me to the funeral. He wants me there. And I knew Annie.’

‘So what’s the big deal?’ Kate asked. ‘You, Jack, Matt – you’ll all be there. Is it so strange that I want to go? Anyway, I’ve made up my mind.’ With that, she stood up, downed the remains of her drink, and went to join Abbie and the boys at the snooker table.

Sarah’s mind worked overtime. How could she ever welcome Luke Kiernan into her home? She couldn’t stand his mother and had always rejected Annie’s attempts to socialise, preferring to stay on the right side of Nicholas and Grace. She’d done it subtly, of course, so there was nothing Annie could say to Jack that wouldn’t seem like her imagination. It wasn’t as if she and Annie had anything in common, after all. Except Jack …

Luke Kiernan had to go. Wrong class, wrong nationality, wrong religion.

And another reason which only Sarah knew about …

Jack glanced at his watch. Almost four o’clock. Time to go home. He’d spent a peaceful hour nursing a pint and reading the paper in a nondescript pub in Chester where nobody knew him. Anonymity could be a blessing. Those who waxed lyrical about rural idylls had usually never experienced the relentless scrutiny that often accompanied village life. The whole of Baronsmere would soon be gossiping about Luke and interrogating Jack at every opportunity. Perhaps he could just claim sickness and take to his bed. How tempting was that?

Heading homewards, Jack thought about Annie. When was the last time he’d actually seen her, spoken to her? She’d left in February, a couple of days before he was due back from Brussels. The night before his departure, she’d been too tired to make love. He’d joked he shouldn’t leave her alone too much or she might lose interest in him. Did she take that as a criticism? Or, worse, had she not wanted to make love because she’d already met the other man? These thoughts had plagued him for years after she left, and he resented them starting up again. Jack turned the car into his long driveway. Only forty-eight hours had passed and he’d already argued with his parents, and Matt seemed to resent him for not joyfully embracing Luke as one of the family. The sooner the kid left the better. Jack wanted his old life back again …

A figure loomed up unexpectedly at the bend in the drive. Jack jammed his foot on the brake and pumped the horn, then sprang out of the car. Luke was standing there, startled, balanced on his crutches, and Ollie was with him. Ollie, who was always wary of strangers! Jack couldn’t believe it. The dog was barking furiously, obviously set off by the screech of brakes. When he saw it was Jack, he calmed down and ambled towards him, tail wagging. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing!’ Jack yelled at Luke. ‘I nearly ran you over!’

‘What does it look like I’m doin’?’ snapped Luke. ‘I was takin’ a walk. Sorry if I came round the corner too fast.’

Jack had overreacted, but his heart still pounded with shock. A shock that was coming out as anger. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to be there, especially with my dog off his lead.’

‘No excuse for drivin’ like an idiot,’ Luke answered. ‘And I can hardly hold a lead, can I? I assumed the driveway would be safe.’

‘What are you doing with him, anyway? He’s temperamental. He can turn vicious with strangers.’ They both looked down at Ollie, who sat between them staring sleepily into the middle of a hedge. Jack felt more than a little foolish.

‘I guess he thought I was part of the family. His mistake.’ Luke turned abruptly and headed back up the drive, and Jack watched in disbelief as Ollie followed. He got back into the car and arrived at the entrance just ahead of them, leaving the front door open behind him.

‘Maggie!’ Jack shouted, waiting in the hallway, his arms folded across his chest. She appeared from the kitchen, drying her hands just as Luke and Ollie walked in.

‘Hello, love,’ she said, smiling at Luke. ‘Ready for some tea and a slice of my walnut cake?’

Unbelievable. It was as if Jack didn’t exist. ‘Maggie, I must say, I’m more than a little surprised at you.’

Maggie helped Luke remove his jacket. ‘And why would that be? What am I supposed to have done?’

‘Letting Luke go wandering on his own. He’s only just out of hospital. He should be taking it easy.’

‘I’ve got a damaged knee and sore ribs. I’m not on life support,’ Luke muttered.

‘He needed some fresh air,’ said Maggie. ‘If you’d been back earlier, you could have gone out with him.’

‘I had a lot of things to sort out,’ said Jack, his voice raised. Maggie tutted as he brushed impatiently past her, heading for the study.

‘Well, we’ve had a nice afternoon,’ she said. ‘Just because
you’ve
had a bad day, you don’t have to take it out on me – or Luke.’

Jack stopped. Maggie was right. He was being totally unreasonable. He turned back, and moved forward to give her an apologetic kiss on the cheek, but Luke stepped between them, jaw set and head raised defiantly. ‘What the …?’ Jack began.

Maggie touched Luke’s arm. ‘Thank you, Luke – but it’s okay, really.’

Jack glared at Luke as the penny dropped. ‘Did you seriously think I was going to hit Maggie? For Christ’s sake, that might be how it is where you come from, but you’re in civilisation now!’

Without speaking, Luke limped off on his crutches to his room.

‘Well done, Jack. Well done,’ said Maggie.

Jack raised his hands in frustration. ‘How do you expect me to react? After what I was just accused of?’

‘Oh, wake up!’ Maggie lowered her voice. ‘He didn’t accuse you of anything – he reacted instinctively. Doesn’t that tell you something?’

‘I know he’s been around violence, but …’

‘But what? Can’t you see? He thought you were going to hit me – men hitting women is something he expects. Do you see what I’m getting at?’

Suddenly he did. And it was sickening. Had Luke seen that happening to Annie? But she’d chosen to leave him. Ultimately, she was responsible for her own fate. And her son’s. It wasn’t Jack’s fault.

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