Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit) (21 page)

‘Kate,’ he said, willing her to understand him. ‘I wish it was that easy, but it’s hard to see Jack pretendin’ to be a family man when he didn’t give a shit about me and my mam.’

She was silent, and he waited for the inevitable. This was it – the end. He’d screwed up, but then he felt Kate’s hand in his, her palm soft and warm in his cold one. Finally, she spoke. ‘All I know, Luke Kiernan, is I want to be with you.’ She smiled. ‘Who knows, I might even learn to cook for you.’

‘Don’t bother,’ he said, stroking her hand with his fingertips. ‘I like you just the way you are.’

‘Right answer! Now, let’s get out of here – we’ll eat in the living room. Where’s that omelette? I’m starving.’

They moved towards the door and Kate flicked off the light. Luke exhaled in relief as the photos and their powerful memories were left in darkness.

They’d eaten in the living room, trays on their laps. The omelettes had gone down well. Even the chips had been good.

Kate brought in dessert. ‘Here we go. Chocolate-covered strawberries and amaretto ice cream. At least I couldn’t spoil that.’

Luke was still hungry and grateful for more food. ‘This is grand,’ he told Kate, as he savoured the almond flavour.

‘Mmm-mmm,’ was all she said, licking some chocolate from her lips. He wanted to volunteer to finish the job. He was glad Kate couldn’t read his mind. Although, she’d dimmed the lights when she came back into the living room, so maybe she was thinking about more than just food, too.

‘Penny for them?’ Kate asked, her spoon poised above her bowl.

Why not say what he was thinking? Might as well take the plunge. ‘Honestly? I was thinkin’ how gorgeous you are.’ Now the words were out, they sounded pathetic. Insincere. She’d either laugh or change the subject. And he’d need to learn to keep his mouth shut. He glanced up at her and their eyes locked. Luke swallowed hard. The room around him receded and the music was edged out by the pounding of his heart, which she must be able to hear.

She was still looking at him, a smile playing about her lips. She pointed to his bowl. ‘Finished?’

Mutely, he offered it up and she set it down, quickly returning her attention to him. Sliding along the sofa, she curled her body in close to his. She was so pretty, so delicate. She made him feel masculine and protective, and he kissed the top of her head. Kate changed position slightly and looked up at him. All doubts vanished then. It was clear she was exactly where she wanted to be. Luke gently tilted her chin and kissed her. His tongue found hers, and he could taste the sweetness of strawberries. He slid his fingers underneath her hair, which felt like silk and smelled of summer flowers.

Kate was now half on top of him, her thigh against his. She must surely notice he was ready for more. His body seemed to have an instinct of its own. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get carried away too soon. He tried to take his mind off his own pleasure and concentrate on hers. As he slid his free hand around Kate’s shoulder, her jumper slipped, revealing the tops of her breasts. She moaned softly and entwined her hands in his hair, pulling it firmly but gently, as their kiss became more intense. Despite his efforts not to, he felt dangerously close to losing control …

A car horn blared outside in the street and Luke broke away from Kate. A dog was barking noisily somewhere close.

‘What’s wrong?’ murmured Kate, trying to pull him close again.

‘Is that your mam comin’ home?’ What would Sarah say if she found him virtually making love to her daughter? A Traveller girl’s mother would have smacked his face and the father would have brained him. And then her brothers would have come round later with sticks.

‘No – I told you. She won’t be back until late,’ Kate said, and he could hear the frustration in her voice.

She took his hand and placed it on her breast. Luke kissed her again for a while but it was no good. The mood was broken.

‘I’m sorry, Kate,’ he said, stroking her hair. ‘I can’t get the image of your mam walkin’ in on us out of my head.’

Kate sighed and got up. Straightening her jumper and smoothing her hair, she sat down in the armchair. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from anger or desire, he couldn’t tell. She watched and waited for him to speak.

‘I feel like a right eejit, Kate,’ he said, moving slowly upright. ‘You’re the girl of my dreams. And I want you – so much. It’s just … in Traveller culture, you wouldn’t kiss or touch a girl in her parents’ home. There’d be hell to pay. I guess it’s just ingrained in me. So sorry.’

‘There’s always the garden,’ suggested Kate, and he was relieved to see humour in her eyes. ‘Love among the burnt potatoes.’

‘Kate – don’t you know what the cold air does to a man?’

She laughed and it felt like things were okay again. When she was driving him home later, Kate asked if he was planning to go to Jack’s birthday party that coming Saturday.

Jack hadn’t even mentioned the party, likely not wanting Luke to attend. It was Matt who’d told told him about it, said it would be a blast and that he wanted Luke to go. A hundred guests, tons of food and drink, a DJ. Not wanting confrontation, Luke had told Matt he might not be up to it physically. Truth was, spending an evening watching the hypocrites of Baronsmere fawning over a Stewart was not his idea of fun. And there was another reason, which he shared now with Kate. ‘Travellers don’t usually go to parties or celebrations for a year after the death of a family member.’

‘Oh.’

He could hear disappointment in her voice.

‘I was hoping we could go together,’ she said, ‘but I totally understand if you feel it’s not appropriate.’

‘Not everybody follows that tradition now, though,’ he told her. ‘Some just don’t drink or dance at a party.’

‘That sounds like a good compromise. And you know, there’s a big raffle at the party and all the proceeds go to charity. We could buy tickets – help out a good cause.’

Kate was working hard to convince him. It was flattering that she really wanted him to be there. By the time she dropped him off at Jack’s house, Luke had as good as said he’d go, trying to ignore the nagging voice of his conscience that said it wasn’t right and no good would come of it.

It had been a hectic Thursday morning at St Aidan’s Hospital. A bus had skidded out of control in Pearse Street and the A&E had been flooded with everything from cuts and abrasions to serious head injuries. The bus driver was dead – a suspected coronary, the likely cause of the crash – and Emer had spent the morning consoling his widow. She was immersed in paperwork in her office when the phone rang. She answered it, putting the call on speakerphone so she could continue writing. ‘Emer Sullivan.’

‘Emer, it’s Mary at reception. There’s a gentleman here who needs some information about a patient. When I looked at the patient’s records, it said all enquiries should be directed to you.’

‘Who’s the patient?’

‘Luke Kiernan. He was discharged three weeks ago.’

Emer stopped writing. ‘And who’s asking?’

‘A Mr Joseph Kiernan – the patient’s uncle.’

‘I’ll be right down, Mary.’ So, here it was. Emer had been half expecting a visit. Jack had told her Luke’s uncles were abroad, but once they came back to an empty house and news that Annie was dead, it was logical that they might follow the route their sister and nephew had taken.

In the reception area, Emer caught sight of Joe Kiernan before he saw her: mid- to late-forties, black hair with traces of grey, fleshy but still quite handsome. His suit was well-cut and of good quality wool, but the flash of an assortment of gold rings on his hand resting on the counter marked him out as new money. ‘Mr Kiernan?’

He flicked his attention to Emer and she was startled by his eyes – same shape as Luke’s, though a lighter shade of blue. The similarity was unnerving but her years of experience helped Emer keep a poker face. She shook his hand and introduced himself. ‘I’m Emer Sullivan – hospital counsellor.’

He appraised her, flicking his eyes quickly over her body, then he smiled in return – a slightly lopsided grin, which he probably used to try to charm women.

‘How can I help you?’

‘Well, as I explained to Mary here, my sister Annie was killed a few weeks ago. Car crash. I’ve only just found out about it ’cause I’ve been abroad. I’m a businessman, see – I travel a lot.’

‘She wasn’t a patient here,’ Mary chipped in, tapping away at her computer.

‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ said Emer. She used those words every day and sometimes they came out sounding more automatic than she would have liked: now, however, she meant them, having been to Annie’s funeral.

‘Thank you.’ Joe didn’t show any spark of emotion about Annie’s death but then some people could be very closed with their feelings, especially in a public place. ‘Thing is, Emer, her son Luke – my nephew – was with her when the accident happened. The Guards told me he’d been brought to this hospital. And now he’s gone missing. I need to find him.’

‘Does he live with you?’ Emer wanted to make this man talk – the more he did, the better she could assess his motives and sincerity.

Joe rubbed the bridge of his nose: covering a lie? His gaze, though, stayed steady. ‘Yeah, he does. But, like I said, I’ve been away – there’d have been no one at home for him, see. He probably didn’t want to be alone.’

‘Have you contacted friends, other family members?’

‘Course. No one’s seen him. I’m very worried.’

‘Well, all I can suggest is you wait for Luke to get in touch.’

He wasn’t going to be put off so easily. ‘Look, Emer, could we go somewhere a bit more private? It’s like a zoo out here.’

‘Room two’s free,’ said Mary, still typing.

‘This way, Mr Kiernan.’

Emer held the door open for Joe, then followed him in, making sure she left the door ajar. The room held a few battered chairs and a coffee table. There were toys in the corner and someone had tried to cheer up the place by taping a poster of the Wicklow hills on the wall. ‘Have a seat.’ She angled a chair sideways to him so she could see his face. ‘Can I get you a tea or coffee?’

‘No … but thanks, love.’ The lopsided grin was back in place. ‘Look, Emer, I don’t want to involve the Guards. It’d scare Luke, see. He’s had a bit of trouble with them before.’

That was news to Emer but maybe it wasn’t true. Just a way for Joe to get her to do what he wanted. ‘I see. I understand, I really do, but it’s hospital policy not to give out personal information about patients.’

‘Not even to a relative?’

‘If the patient’s over eighteen, then no,’ Emer confirmed. ‘I’m sure Luke will be in touch when he’s ready. He’s been through a lot, what with the accident and his mother’s death. Just give him some time.’

Joe frowned and rubbed his forehead. ‘I don’t want to do that. See, Luke – well’—he leaned forward in his chair and lowered his voice confidentially—‘just between you and me, he’s a bit unstable. Always has been. Not the brightest card in the deck, unfortunately. He needs people around to take care of him.’

‘Really? He seemed balanced enough when I spoke to him.’ Too late, Emer realised she’d revealed more information than she should have. Now the door was wide open for Joe to ask more probing questions. Which he did.

‘So you spoke to him then? Why? What about? Don’t you deal with headcases and weirdos?’

His tone had subtly shifted and there was suspicion in his eyes. The charming façade was slipping.

‘I’m a trauma counsellor not a psychiatrist. It’s my job to counsel the bereaved.’

Joe cut to the chase. ‘Where did he say he was goin’?’

‘I’ve told you, even if I knew, I’m not allowed to reveal information of that kind.’

‘Look, if you knew where he went, you’d better tell me cause if he’s lyin’ dead in a ditch somewhere it’ll be this hospital’s fault.’

‘The doctor assessed Luke’s physical
and
mental condition and decided he was fit to leave. I’m sorry I can’t give you the answers you want, but this is not a prison – we can’t keep patients here if they want to leave.’

Joe snorted. ‘Sounds like a case of gettin’ the filthy knacker on his way as soon as you can.’

Emer bristled at the accusation of discrimination. ‘That’s not the way it was, I can assure you. All patients are treated equally in this hospital.’ She stood up. ‘I’m sorry we can’t help you.’

Joe stood up abruptly, kicking the chair out behind him in a temper. His bulk was between her and the door and Emer felt very uncomfortable, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling a warning.

‘What is it with you people?’ he hissed. ‘You get a little bit of power and you think you can abuse the rest of us. You make me sick!’

‘This conversation is over. Please let me pass.’

He held position, looming over her, a slight smile twisting his lips. This man was a bully, someone who enjoyed using his power over others. Emer could sense the violence in him, and her hands clenched involuntarily into fists. Fight or flight – he’d activated her adrenalin response, and he knew it. She was about to push past him – shout for help, if necessary – when he swung away to the side, mockingly gesturing for her to pass. As she reached the door, he fired a final question at her. ‘Where’s the body?’

‘The body?’

‘My sister’s body. Where’s she buried?’

The beautiful old church in Baronswood sprang to mind but there was no way she was telling this bastard about that. ‘I’m afraid I have no idea,’ she lied.

‘Well, where do they put the soddin’ dead bodies after an accident, for Christ’s sake?’ Joe asked, as if she were simple.

‘She was killed at the scene of the accident and was never brought to the hospital. They would have taken her straight to the morgue and then released her body to a relative.’

‘To Luke, you mean?’

‘I don’t know anything about that,’ she said coldly.

‘You don’t know much, do you, darlin’?’ sneered Joe. ‘Or so you claim. In fact, you’ve been pretty useless all round.’

‘Time to go, Mr Kiernan.’ She felt safer now with the bustle of hospital life visible and within reach.

He swaggered towards the door and stopped just in front of her. ‘Be a good girl and pass a message on to Luke for me. Tell him I’m lookin’ for him and he can’t run away forever.’ He leaned in closer and she could feel his breath warm against her cheek. His voice was a whisper but she heard the words clearly enough. ‘And if I find out you’ve been lyin’ to me, Emer, I won’t forget it.’