Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit) (14 page)

Kate turned to her left and glanced at Jack. There was no sign of emotion. In the church, he’d stared straight ahead at the altar. Maybe he felt nothing. It had been twenty-odd years since he’d been with Annie. In contrast, Maggie was weeping, as she had been since the service began. Matt said she’d loved Annie like a daughter. Matt had cried, too. He said he’d cried for Annie after she left, but Jack would get angry if she was mentioned so Matt got used to not talking about her, mourning her in private, missing his bedtime stories, missing her cuddles.

Luke, like Jack, hadn’t cried once during the funeral service. Funny that – the two people closest to Annie hadn’t shed any tears. When she’d told Matt she was going to the funeral, he’d laughingly accused her of only doing it because she fancied Luke, but she really did want to support him. He was a stranger to the village and must surely feel overwhelmed. Kate didn’t need to support her mother, that was for sure. Sarah was tough as nails and didn’t need anybody’s shoulder to cry on. Her head was bowed, but not in grief – she was discreetly looking at a valuable bracelet one of her men friends had given her. Rose-gold moonstone, she said it was. All week she’d been twisting her wrist to see it shine in the light.

Finally Kate heard the words ‘ashes to ashes, dust to dust’ that signalled the end. The priest sprinkled holy water over the coffin then Jack knelt down, picked up some earth, and threw it into the grave. Matt did the same, murmuring, ‘Rest in peace, Annie.’

Kate watched as Matt picked up some more earth and pressed it discreetly into Luke’s hand, but there was no response at first. Luke seemed dazed, which wasn’t surprising.

‘Goodbye, Mam,’ he said finally, his voice almost a whisper, as he crumbled the soil over the tricolour now replaced on top of the coffin, its coloured stripes of green, white and orange streaked with mud and earth. Kate wanted to cry. She wanted to hold Luke’s hand, give him a hug, and tell him it would all be okay, except it wouldn’t. Not for a long time.

And that was it. Father Quinn closed his Bible and people started to walk away. The funeral was over.

‘Let’s go,’ Matt urged Luke, who hadn’t moved. Then he just crumpled, falling against Matt who caught him before he hit the ground.

‘Dad!’ Matt sounded panic-stricken.

Jack was quickly at the other side, supporting Luke who seemed barely conscious. ‘Okay, okay – I’ve got him,’ he said.

‘Mum?’ Sarah was a certified first-aider, but Kate noticed she offered no assistance.

‘They’re doing fine,’ said Sarah, but her voice was cold. ‘He doesn’t need to be crowded.’

Maggie hurried over. ‘I was afraid of this,’ she said. ‘He’s hardly eaten in days.’

Luke’s eyes fluttered open and between them Jack and Matt settled him back onto his crutches. Matt pulled out his hip flask, forcing Luke to take a sip of the brandy. He gagged but at least regained some colour and nodded weakly when Jack asked if he could make it to the car.

They set off slowly toward the cemetery gates, passing the unknown redhead, who was gazing at Luke with concern. ‘Are you okay?’ the woman asked as she moved forward and touched his arm. He smiled, obviously pleased to see her.

She looked nice, and Kate was grateful Luke had a familiar face there for him today.

‘Looks like you’re not needed after all,’ Sarah commented, linking her arm through Kate’s.

God, her mother could be a bitch at times.

Jack scanned the drawing room from the doorway but couldn’t see Emer. There’d been no chance to talk to her since arriving back from the church.

‘She’s in the dining room,’ said Matt, handing him a glass of wine.

‘Thanks,’ said Jack, taking a sip. A nice flinty Chablis. Sarah always chose well. ‘Sorry – who’s in the dining room?’

‘The redhead. Who is she?’

Jack tried to sound casual. ‘Emer Sullivan. Luke’s bereavement counsellor.’ He sensed he was under scrutiny but stared straight ahead at the portrait of Great-Uncle George in his regimental uniform.

‘She’s a long way from home, isn’t she?’

An innocent remark? Probably not. Matt could read him like a book.

‘A sad business, Jack, a sad business,’ said Tony Hayes, joining them in the doorway. ‘Can’t believe that sweet lass is gone.’ Jack gave a non-committal murmur and gulped down some wine. ‘Where’s her ladyship then?’

Could Tony talk any louder? Draw any more attention to the fact his parents had boycotted the funeral? ‘She’s a bit under the weather, Tony,’ said Jack, through gritted teeth. Having to cover for his parents was a nightmare.

‘Coming through, coming through.’

They moved aside as Kate came into the drawing room with Luke in tow. He still looked pale. After the incident at the graveside, Jack had arranged for the family doctor to call.

‘Hey, bro – come and meet Tony,’ said Matt.

Jack excused himself and went into the hall. Now, where was Emer?

‘Jack …’

Sarah pulled him into the nook next to the grandfather clock. ‘How are you? This must have been so traumatic. I can only imagine …’

She was standing very close to him. Too close for people who were no longer in a relationship. Jack hoped Sarah wasn’t going to suggest they get back together. ‘I have to get back to the guests,’ he said, trying to sidle around her.

Then two things happened at once. Richard walked in through the front door and Emer came out of the dining room.

‘Well, well,’ smirked Richard, eyeing Jack and Sarah. ‘Look at you two lovebirds. There are six bedrooms in this house – couldn’t you find one of them?’ He caught sight of Emer and smiled. ‘Hello. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Richard. Shall we go through? It’s a little crowded out here.’

Emer glanced at Jack before being propelled by Richard into the drawing room.

‘Who’s
she
?’ asked Sarah.

‘Emer,’ said Jack. ‘She counselled Luke after the accident.’

‘Isn’t this a bit above and beyond the call of duty?’

‘I think it’s more personal now. She became quite attached to Luke – and he to her.’

‘Judging from the look on her face just now, I don’t think it was only Luke she became attached to.’ There was a hard edge to Sarah’s voice and she brushed past him, heading for the dining room.

Suddenly, it was all too much. Jack needed to get away from everyone, to clear his head of the memories threatening to engulf him. If he allowed that to happen, he’d be back where he was twenty years ago. Flailing, unable to cope. Overwhelmed by grief, shock, bitterness. He went to his study and closed the door. It was the wrong decision. Alone, the memories flooded back. Memories of Annie, and his love for her. Hers for him. If it had been bad when she first left, it was ten times worse now. At least then he hadn’t known that she had a child whose head she’d filled with lies. A son she’d kept from him. A son who was out there now, sick and bereft.

Jack wanted to make more effort with Luke. He wasn’t so hard he didn’t feel compassion, but it had taken him a long time to get over Annie. He wasn’t even sure he ever had. Embracing her son might reopen the wounds that had been all but fatal emotionally, but would he regret it if he didn’t try? Jack left the study, knowing what he should do but still not knowing if he could.

Emer and Richard were standing by the dining-room window, just behind the sofa where Tony was seated next to Luke. ‘Your mother was one of the best barmaids I ever had,’ Jack heard Tony say. ‘So if you’re in the market for a job, just give me a shout.’

Dear God, Matt
and
Luke working behind a bar. Well, he’d always championed the working man – no one could say Jack Stewart was a snob.

‘There you are,’ said Richard, exuding fake bonhomie, as Jack took a glass of wine from a tray carried by a waitress. ‘Nice “do” you’ve put on.’

Jack wanted to strangle him. If insensitivity could be bottled, the man would be the main supplier. ‘For God’s sake, Richard, have a bit of respect – it’s not a bloody party.’

‘I was a bit alarmed when I dropped Claire off at the church,’ Richard continued. ‘Thought I’d stumbled on some militant funeral with that flag on the coffin. I was waiting for the gunfire volley.’

From the corner of his eye, Jack saw Luke ease himself up from the nearby sofa and move in their direction, his expression worryingly familiar. ‘I’m Luke,’ he said to Richard. ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘That’s very hospit—’ Richard began, but got no further. Despite the awkwardness of his crutches, Luke managed to take Jack’s wine glass and throw the contents into Richard’s face. It was the hospital all over again, but Jack felt no sympathy for his brother-in-law. Luke was already on his way out of the room, leaving Tony Hayes chortling away on the sofa and the other guests trying to hide their smiles. Richard had never been popular.

‘Little animal!’ he ranted, as Claire dabbed his face with some serviettes. ‘Deserves a good hiding!’

‘Let’s go home,’ said Claire. Richard followed her out of the room, shoving his way through the guests, and Jack heard the front door slam moments later. He turned to talk to Emer but she’d disappeared. Great. The feuding Stewart family had probably scared her off.

‘Like mother, like son,’ he heard Tony say.

‘Sorry?’

‘His mother did the same thing.’

‘What – threw a drink over Richard?’ This was the first Jack had heard of it.

‘Aye,’ confirmed Tony, with a satisfied smile. ‘She hadn’t been working for me long. Richard had a few too many and kept hassling Annie, which she laughed off till he grabbed hold of her – then he got a full pint over him. He was often in – it was obvious he fancied her.’

‘She never told me that.’ And Richard had been married to Claire then. Was there no limit to how low the bastard could sink?

‘No,’ Tony was saying, ‘I don’t suppose she would have mentioned it. She weren’t that kind of a lass – not a troublemaker. Looks like she raised a good ’un there, eh?’

Jack half-heartedly nodded. He didn’t blame Luke for throwing the drink – he’d like to have done it himself, glass and all. He wanted to tell Luke that, for them to share a laugh over it as most fathers and sons would do.

Father and son. Jack didn’t think of Luke in that way often. It was easier not to. But now he should go after him, make his peace. It was what he’d planned to do earlier, but his feet wouldn’t move. Just like at the funeral, when he should have put his arm around Luke. He’d actually wanted to but couldn’t do it. Holding Annie’s son, who looked so much like her, would be torture. There would have been conflicting emotions that he couldn’t deal with right now – wondering if Luke was his, or whether he was holding the result of Annie’s betrayal.

So instead, he stood there, pretending to listen to Tony although the conversation was lost on him. Jack was too busy hating himself.

When Emer went to the garden to find Luke, she stopped for a moment to drink in the scene. Giant oaks and beech trees, a summerhouse, seemingly endless stretches of lawn and a lake. Beauty, space and privacy. Jack Stewart was a lucky man.

Luke was settled on an ornamental ironwork seat facing the lake. The dog at his feet wagged its tail as she approached.

‘Hello, you,’ Emer said to Luke, who gave a weary smile. He didn’t look well. She sat down and the dog nuzzled her hand. ‘Who’s this then?’

‘Matt’s dog, Honey. She’s very friendly.’

‘Unlike your man inside, eh?’

‘Why did I do that?’ Luke shook his head. ‘Why do I never think? I’m an eejit.’

‘I’d say he’s the one who’s the eejit,’ Emer reassured him. She hadn’t liked Richard. Within minutes he’d informed her of his lofty position in Stewart Enterprises and how he would one day inherit a large part of the family fortune. She’d mentally filed him under
P
for Prat.

‘I don’t even know who he is.’

‘I can help you there. He’s married to Jack’s sister, which I guess makes him your uncle.’

Luke groaned. ‘Great! Another reason for Jack to bawl me out.’

‘Are the two of you not getting on still?’ she asked. She liked Jack. She liked Luke. Mediating between them would be tricky.

‘We clash all the time. It was a mistake to come here. It’s never goin’ to work. Jack doesn’t want me, and his parents said to my face they don’t believe I’m a Stewart.’

Emer wondered what kind of people could be so unkind to someone recently bereaved. ‘It’s their loss, Luke. What about Matt, though? You said on the phone he seemed glad you’re here.’

‘Yeah, but he’s not around much. He’s got his own life.’

‘You’ll make your own life too, I know you will. Right now, you’ve got too much time on your hands and you’re brooding. You need to get out. Meet people.’

‘With these?’ Luke indicated his crutches.

‘Yes, with those. The housekeeper here looks like she’d do anything for you. She may have a car. And what about that pretty girl you were talking to?’

‘Kate. She’s really nice. Her mam owns some stables.’

Emer saw the hint of a blush. She’d told him back in Dublin that the girls would be on the scene for him soon enough. ‘Don’t lock yourself away, Luke. You’ll miss out on so much.’

He nodded, but would he take her advice? Guilt could play a big part in a person’s not being able to move on after bereavement. She put her arm round him and gave him a hug. He seemed to welcome the contact, leaning against her slightly. ‘Do you ever forget?’ he asked. ‘Seein’ someone put into the ground?’

‘No, you don’t – but eventually you learn to live with it.’

‘I still can’t believe she’s gone,’ he whispered. ‘Every mornin’ I wake up and think things are how they used to be. Then it hits me.’

‘That’s normal,’ she told him, and he nodded slowly as though he accepted it, but what was he really thinking and feeling? There had been no tears at all at the funeral. Did he cry in private, or did he fear his grief too much to let go? ‘You held it together very well today. It can’t have been easy.’

‘I know what you’re thinkin’. I’m not ashamed to cry. It’s just not somethin’ I do.’

That was worrying. Did the reason lie in his past? She thought again about the bruises. Were they from a fight – or something more sinister? She wanted to help him but there just wasn’t time, and her professionalism wouldn’t allow her to begin an exploration of buried emotions when she wouldn’t be around to monitor the consequences.

‘Luke!’

Emer turned to see the housekeeper approaching.

‘Dr Freeman’s here,’ Maggie said. ‘He wants to check you over.’

‘I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor.’

Luke was so stubborn. ‘Best be on the safe side,’ said Emer, handing him the crutches. He hauled himself up from the seat and the three of them started walking towards the house.

‘Maybe we could go out somewhere tomorrow,’ Emer suggested. ‘I don’t need to be at the airport till four.’

‘I’d like that,’ he replied, then with that gentle smile she found so endearing, he looked up at the sky. ‘Hope the weather’ll be better than this.’

‘C’mon, Luke. We’re Irish,’ teased Emer. ‘First thing they do when we’re born is give us an umbrella. Now you see that doctor or I’ll change my mind.’

Sarah gulped more wine and held the cool glass to her cheek. She felt hot, a little dizzy. This whole day had been too much. Luke was so like Annie – same eyes, same shape of face. Like she’d come back to haunt them. Sarah had tried to block it all out, to keep focused only on Jack, but now he was avoiding her. Someone turned the dining-room door handle. If it was Tony Hayes, she’d have to be rude and walk out. Mindless chatter was the last thing she needed.

The redhead walked in. The counsellor, who’d apparently trekked all the way from Ireland just for little Luke. As if. Jack Stewart was probably the best catch she’d ever seen in whatever backwater she came from.

‘Hello. I’m Emer Sullivan. Luke’s counsellor.’

‘Sarah Walker. Jack’s partner.’ He helped her out from time to time with the pub’s financial matters so it wasn’t exactly a lie. Hopefully this woman would interpret it to mean Sarah was Jack’s girlfriend.

Emer moved forward and shook Sarah’s hand. That was an off-the-peg dress and jacket for sure. But it was Emer’s hair that would catch a man’s eye. Jack loved curls. Sarah’s hair was poker straight.

‘Just getting some food for Maggie,’ said Emer, starting to fill a plate. ‘She hasn’t eaten anything yet. Too worried about Luke. He’s had such a rough time.’

‘So has Jack,’ said Sarah, irritated at Emer’s over-familiarity with Maggie, with the house.

‘Yes, but I think Jack can take care of himself, don’t you?’

Sarah frowned. This little upstart needed putting in her place. ‘Can he? He’s a complicated man. Not many know him well. It takes years. It was a long time before he got over Annie deserting him, and I think her death has upset him more than he lets on. It’s brought it all back.’

‘Yes, I’m sure.’

‘At least he has family and friends around him here,’ Sarah continued. ‘People who can help him adjust. He really needs stability in his life right now.’ There. If the woman had any sense, she’d see that as a warning shot across her bow.

‘I’m sure Jack knows exactly what he needs,’ said Emer.

‘Let’s hope so.’ Sarah couldn’t read Emer’s expression. Hard to know if her warning had had any impact.

‘Well, nice to meet you,’ said Emer. ‘I’ll just take this to Maggie.’

A thought suddenly occurred to Sarah. ‘If you need somewhere to stay, I run the local hotel.’

Emer smiled. ‘Thanks, but I’m staying here tonight. Jack invited me earlier. I was planning to stay in Manchester, but I think Luke needs support right now.’

If this was a poker game, that was the trump card. Sarah couldn’t beat that. Jack was supremely vulnerable today, and Emer and her curls would be there to comfort him. She’d bet her last dollar both of them were using Luke as an excuse. All those years she’d devoted to Jack, and now he was finally free of Annie Kiernan but drifting away from her. It was so unfair. Still, Emer would be back in Ireland soon enough. Out of sight and hopefully out of mind. And when Jack needed a shoulder to cry on, Sarah fully intended to be there.

The doctor had just left when there was a knock on the door. Luke prayed it wasn’t Jack. He was still waiting to be read the riot act for dowsing Richard.

It was Kate. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

He struggled upright, propping himself against the pillows. ‘Fine, thanks. Just tired.’

‘What did the doctor say?’

‘
Get some food down you, boy. I’ve seen more meat on a butcher’s pencil
.’ Luke did his best to imitate Dr Freeman’s no-nonsense voice. ‘I thought it was Maggie, dressed up.’

Kate laughed, and Luke’s initial shyness disappeared. She moved over to the armchair by the window, where she sat sideways, draping her legs over the arm. ‘It’s good to see you smile. This is such a difficult day for you. I can’t imagine how I’d cope if I lost my mum. I’ve only ever had her. Like you, really.’

‘What happened to your da’?’

‘He left, not long after I was born.’

‘Do you not see him?’

‘No, never. Last Mum heard, he was in America.’

Luke couldn’t understand any man abandoning his own child. ‘Does that upset you?’

‘I don’t really care,’ said Kate. ‘Don’t think I’ve missed much. Jack’s been great. When I was little, I’d pretend he was my dad. Matt’s like my brother. We had holidays together and days out – me and Mum, Jack and Matt.’

So, while Luke had been living with poverty and violence, Jack was playing happy families with another man’s child. Kate was still talking, not realising how her words had cut Luke like a knife. She would, of course, believe Annie was the guilty one, that she’d abandoned Jack and kept his son from him. He could set her straight, but what would it achieve? She’d lost her real father – who was Luke to take away her substitute?

He listened to her talk – about an article she’d written for the student newspaper, her hopes for the future, the May Day riding competition – and it soothed him. It was disappointing when Maggie knocked on the door and said Sarah was probably over the limit and Kate would have to drive her home. He didn’t want her to go.

Kate walked over to the bed, took a pen from her bag and wrote a number on his hand. ‘There – now you won’t lose it, but copy it before you wash,’ she said. ‘We’ll go to the stables on Saturday, but call me if you need anything. Well, call me anyway.’ She leaned over and kissed his cheek. ‘Bye.’

‘Bye,’ he responded, and as soon as she was gone, he put his hand to his cheek, where the touch of her lips lingered.

Emer was resting on the bed in Jack’s guest room. The mourners had left over an hour ago and the house was now quiet. The family had needed a time-out after the stress of the funeral so everyone had retired to their rooms, agreeing with Maggie’s suggestion to use the leftovers in the fridge when they were hungry. Jack had suggested Emer come down to the drawing room around seven for a drink. So formal. She wondered, not for the first time, if a small-town girl like her could fit into his world. Perhaps Annie had wondered the same thing …

The phone shrilled. The display light flashed ‘internal call’. ‘Hello?’ she answered.

‘Emer.’ Jack’s voice. ‘How does a slap-up meal sound?’

She looked in the mirror. Not a ‘slap-up meal’ look. ‘It’ll take me a while to get ready.’

‘No, come as you are. I’ll give you two minutes,’ Jack said before hanging up.

He was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs, a tea towel draped over his arm. ‘Can I escort you to your table, Madam?’

The slap-up meal was on the kitchen table in takeaway containers. ‘Reheated leftovers didn’t sound very appetising, so I ordered a takeaway,’ said Jack. ‘I remembered you said you and your sister always had a Chinese once a month.’

‘Thank you. That was very thoughtful.’ He looked so eager to please and it was touching.

After he’d shared out the food, Emer said, ‘You look tired, Jack. How are you feeling?’

‘Exhausted,’ he admitted. ‘Having to talk and think about the past so much was … difficult.’

Emer remembered watching in admiration as he worked the room, spending time with every mourner there. She’d overheard people telling him their memories of Annie and he’d listened politely, only the slight set of his jaw revealing the strain of guarding his emotions. ‘I think you did Annie proud today, Jack.’

‘I’m so glad you could make it, Emer,’ he said. ‘It meant a lot to me – and to Luke as well, I’m sure … What time are you leaving tomorrow?’.

‘My flight’s at six.’

‘And what are your plans for the day?’

‘I thought I’d take Luke for a drive. He’s always wanted to see Old Trafford.’

‘I see,’ said Jack, clearly disappointed. ‘That sounds like a good idea. I have to be at the office, anyway.’

Poor Jack. He was probably used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it, and being thwarted didn’t come easily.

‘Is this okay?’ Jack indicated the takeaway cartons. ‘Given that last time you told me cheap food doesn’t matter if the company’s good.’

She was flattered he’d remembered her words and glad he was relaxed enough to let his sense of humour come through. ‘It’s lovely,’ she told him. ‘Going out for a meal wouldn’t have seemed right, somehow.’ She took a bite from a spring roll. ‘And these are the best I’ve ever tasted.’

‘Are you warm enough?’ Jack swivelled the portable heater and the warm air embraced Emer’s feet. She snuggled deeper into the coat Jack had loaned her, smelling faint traces of cologne. They were alone together on the patio sharing a nightcap. It had been a nice evening – considering the circumstances – but she was feeling confused about Sarah Walker. Emer had stayed in the kitchen with Maggie for the rest of the afternoon, wary of another run-in with Jack’s ‘partner’.

‘Penny for them?’ asked Jack.

He’d just cut a cigar, and the rich, sweet smoke reminded her of her grandfather’s favourite indulgence. Jack had had a rough day. Perhaps she should go easy on him. But that elephant on the patio table between them was annoying. Emer took a quick gulp of brandy. ‘I remember what you said in Dublin – about Sarah …’

‘Yes?’

‘I met her earlier in the dining room. She introduced herself as your partner.’

‘What!’ Jack sounded angry. ‘I don’t know what she’s playing at. We split up over two months ago. We did, Emer, I swear.’

There was no guile about him, she could see that. He was being truthful. ‘I’m guessing she’s changed her mind,’ Emer told him. ‘She definitely warned me off.’

‘Then she’s too late. I’m not going to lose you.’

He looked directly into her eyes and she felt a jolt of strong connection. Desire, curiosity, excitement, hope – all those emotions a potential new relationship brings. ‘You don’t exactly have me, Jack,’ she whispered.

‘I can wait,’ he told her. ‘I know we’ve only just met but I really want to get to know you better. And for you to get to know me. You’ve seen me at my worst – I’d like you to have a chance to see me at my best.’ He paused. ‘You’re beautiful, Emer, but it’s not only about that. Being with you feels right. The way you see things, what you talk about – it’s new for me. Makes me realise what I’ve been missing.’